


All You Know

by nel_gal



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, References to Drugs, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-28 07:27:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12601380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nel_gal/pseuds/nel_gal
Summary: Daryl is trying for a better life than the one he's been handed so far, but it's hard to break those old ties, especially when that's all you know.  But maybe Rick can help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Someone Like You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2407613) by [drsquidlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drsquidlove/pseuds/drsquidlove). 



> This story was absolutely completely inspired by the Oz/SVU, Beecher/Stabler crossover masterpiece: Someone Like You by the amazing drsquidlove (of whom I am in awe) in the Oz (TV) fandom. It's 250k words, and it was on the second reading I became inspired to write this Rick/Daryl story. This story would not exist without that one. There are a lot of differences, but many similarities (I find more each time I read through it). One thing I particularly wanted to be the same was the name of the club: Franco's, and drsquidlove was generously supportive. Thank you!
> 
> I have so far only read in two fandom's: TWD and Oz (and Oz/SVU), and despite how much I have enjoyed reading Beecher/Stabler and Beecher/Keller, I want to say definitively that Rick/Daryl are my OTP. I have no plans to write in Oz and this is not a crossover, even though I do refer to Daryl as having been 'in Oz'.. You can insert any maximum security prison name there if you like.. Attica / Riker's / San Quentin etc..
> 
> This is a lot more violent than anything else in my tiny repertoire. I would say compared to many TWD AU's it is very violent. Compared to Oz it is probably moderate. I have put this in tags also, but please know this story includes numerous violent consensual sexual encounters, and mention of past rape. Daryl has multiple partners described in this fic, prior to Rick. Please don't read if any of this is an issue for you, or feel free to ask me for more information.
> 
> Also, Rick is a detective in this. As in, a cop-detective, not a private detective.
> 
> Let's say this story has very dark elements, but hopefully overall it is not dark, and there is light at the end of the tunnel.
> 
> Un-beta'd also. I know there are errors and I am embarrassed by them and apologise in advance. This is complete, I am just doing some final edits and will post chapters approximately every day or two

Daryl gave a slight nod to the guy in the black leather jacket across the other side of the bar. They had made eye contact a few times since Daryl walked into Franco's, but this time they let the look linger. He brought his cigarette to his mouth, sucked in the smoke and exhaled slowly.

The man's eyes narrowed, and Daryl pushed off the wall, headed to the dingy restrooms at the back of the club.

He waited, leaning back against the hand basin still smoking as the door swung inward. They stared once again until Daryl flicked the cigarette into the basin and headed into the stall at the end of the row.

The tall guy followed him in and threw the bolt.

"Well, you are one pretty redneck." Leather jacket drawled, taking in Daryl's sleeveless flannel shirt. "But do you like it rough? Pretty redneck." He unzipped his fly and withdrew a cock that measured up to its reputation.

Daryl licked his lips and dropped to his knees. He wrapped his mouth around the man and started sucking like a pro.

Leather jacket was noisy. He threw his head back into the door, and he moaned and chanted 'Oh my god' punctuating the 'god' over and over as Daryl applied all of his considerable skill to getting the guy as close to coming as possible, taking him to the brink and just back again.

"You are _good_ at that." He drawled, pulling at Daryl's hair to get him to stop. When Daryl rose, he advanced and made to kiss him.

"No kissing." Daryl hissed, turning his head out of the way.

Leather jacket looked surprised for a second before breaking into a huge grin. "Ahh, you like something else?" Fast as anything, he slapped Daryl up the side of the head, causing his ears to ring. Whilst he was still reeling, the guy deftly reached over and opened Daryl's jean's button and fly before manhandling Daryl around to face the side wall, pushing him roughly up against it. He then punched him once to each kidney, causing him to bend in pain, as all the wind was knocked from him.

Daryl tried to draw a breath as he felt his jeans being pulled down past his knees.

"Yeah, I knew you was pretty, but look at this ass, I'm really gonna enjoy being in that." He slapped Daryl hard on the ass, the sound seemed to ricochet all around the stall.

"You got a condom?"

"Jeans. Pocket." Daryl grunted, still trying to catch his breath.

He felt the guy reach down and go though his pockets, and he looked around to see the condom go on.

Then his legs were kicked apart as far as they could go with his jeans now pooling at his ankles, rough hands pulling his ass cheeks apart, and that large blunt cock head at his hole.

Leather jacket dug his fingers hard into Daryl's hips and pushed forward, in one movement, thrusting all the way in. It was all he could do not to scream and come at the same time. The mix of pleasure and pain almost too much, as fingers sunk further into the flesh at Daryl's hips, leather jacket using them to anchor himself as he fucked in and out. Hard.

He wasn't a particularly big guy, apart from his barrel-like cock, but he was tall and apparently stronger than he looked, and Daryl's hands slipped from their position on the wall, both of them falling forward during the next thrust, with Daryl's forehead hitting hard enough to cause blood to trickle down from above his eye.

He punched out an 'umpf', but didn't say anything, just repositioned his hands and pushed himself back off the filthy wall.

Black Jacket continued thrusting, and it was deeply satisfying despite the pain. Or because of it? Daryl could never be sure. He reached down with one hand and grabbed his own bobbing cock and gave a few quick pumps before he was coming all over the wall. Black Jacket must have liked that, because his fingers dug in tighter and he thrust harder, and let out a final long, loud moan, before collapsing against Daryl's back.

They didn't take long, just a few seconds to recover before Black Jacket pulled out, panting heavily.

"Man, you have got a pretty mouth and an even prettier ass. I wouldn't mind seeing both of them around here again."

Daryl was silent as the man re-dressed, then leaned over and grabbed Daryl's chin in his hand.

"Not much of a conversationalist, are you?"

Daryl was still silent but didn't back down from the intense stare.

"What's your name?"

"Daryl."

"That's ok Daryl. I can talk enough for two. Heck, I can talk enough for _ten_ people." He laughed at his own joke. "I'll buy you a drink at the bar when you come out." He said, before exiting the stall.

Daryl cautiously threw the latch and took a deep shaky breath, which he immediately regretted as the scent of sex and sweat filled his nose.

He grabbed a handful of toilet paper and wiped the blood from his ass before pulling up his jeans. His hasty two-lubed-finger prep before he left home had obviously not been sufficient. In this moment he vowed to be more careful next time, but he knew he wouldn't be. That feeling, that first moment of pain, being split open was what he associated with sex, what he craved even more than his own release and what he deserved anyway, surely.

He sighed, stood up properly and unlocked the door. At the sink he wet his hands and rubbed them through his hair and over his face, wiping the thin trail of blood that had dripped from the new cut above his eye. He looked into the mirror. What was wrong with him? He wasn't high. He wasn't even drunk. That at least might have been an excuse. No, he was stone cold sober and he came here because the only way he could get off was to have some prick with a god complex and a huge cock use him until he was bruised and bloody. His eyes narrowed in disgust at his reflection.

Worse still, he knew he would think about this over the next few weeks, would fantasise about it until it stopped working too and he had to come back. Except in most of his fantasies, he died at the end. Whoever it was working him over would go too far. Would maybe strangle him a little much, or hit him too hard.

Daryl punched the mirror and let out a pained sound and tore his gaze away. God he was so damaged. He had no wish to see leather jacket for a drink, he just had an overwhelming desire to be somewhere, anywhere else than here. He had to get outside.   He strode to the door, wrenched it open and barrelled straight out into _something_ , almost knocking it and himself sprawling.

Daryl had a split second to process that the whole front of the bar was crawling with cops, and that there were a set of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen right in front of him, before the suited-owner of the blue eyes withdrew his weapon, took one step back and levelled it at Daryl's chest.


	2. Chapter 2

Rick acted on instinct and immediately drew his weapon on the scruffy looking guy who had almost knocked him over in his obvious haste to exit the restroom.

His hands drew and raised the gun at the same time as his brain supplied the information that the man in front of him was more surprised than actually dangerous.

They stood there for a few beats, staring at each other, the long haired guy's eyes flicking to the barrel of the Python, and back to Rick's face. Waiting calmly for him to either shoot or lower the weapon.

Rick took a careful breath and focussed on the man in front of him. Long stringy hair, worn and dirty clothing. Why his brain also supplied phrases like 'delicate features' and 'clear blue eyes' he wasn't sure, but it was his job to notice things, especially inconsistencies. He removed his finger from the trigger, clicked the safety back on and gestured with his weapon for the man to walk towards the front of the bar.

"Glenn, could you take care of this one? He was coming out of the restrooms."

"Sure. Get over here." Glenn grabbed the guy around the arm and led him to a corner of the room. Rick noticed the flinch, but the guy went quietly.

He surveyed the scene for a while and decided it was under control in front. He went out back to do another sweep. This place was a dive, but he already knew that. He entered the bathroom, the smell of filth and god knows what filled his nose immediately. This restroom with its dingy lighting, vulgar graffiti, chipped tiles and broken doors could have been from any one of a number of clubs in this city. In any city.

It didn't have to look nice though. This wasn't some fancy club that sold over priced cocktails to groups of pretty women, or a local bar where friends came to drink beer, watch sport and complain about their jobs and marriages.

This was a place men frequented in order to hook up with each other. For a snog and grope on the dance floor, or to pick up some random to go back home with. Or for a blow job or quick fuck in the bathroom, before going to home to whatever kind of life they otherwise had. Rick thought about the shaggy haired guy.

Hooking up obviously wasn't illegal. And although fucking in the restroom technically was, they were hardly going to run an operation to crack down on that. Unless someone was getting hurt.

Of course, that guy had looked a little worse for wear, with an open cut on his forehead... Rick shook his head. That guy was besides the point. They were here for the illegal weapons dealing, and they already knew who they needed to talk to about that.

Rick walked back out to Glenn and said quietly. "Start with Negan. If he won't give us any information, arrest him." He looked over to T-Dog. "T, you take Simon, same deal. Just be sure to keep them apart."

Glenn and T-Dog turned to carry out his instructions. They were experienced cops, good at their jobs. He knew he could count on them.

Rick looked around at the rest of the room. The other poor sorry souls here had been inadvertently caught up in their sting operation, and he could smell the distrust in the room.

"Listen up people. We just need your details. Names, phone number, address. Please have your identification ready so we can take down your information. Then you're free to go." Rick nodded to his colleague Gabriel to start taking down the details.

He then busied himself looking around the store-room in back where they had already found an open safe full of Glocks.

Half an hour later Gabriel came to find him. "We're through with everyone out front, except one of the guys who doesn't have any ID on him."

"Ok, I'll be right out." He called over his shoulder.

Rick wandered out to find Gabriel and the guy from the restroom. All of the other patrons were gone, and most of the cops too. Negan and Simon had been taken to the precinct.

"I'll take it from here." Rick addressed Gabriel, who nodded, handing over his note pad.

Rick glanced at the writing. "Mr Dixon. My colleague tells me you have no identification."

"S' right." Came the gravelly reply.

"Well obviously it poses a problem for us if we can't verify your details."

The man was silent, disinterested.

Rick sighed. "Well what am I supposed to do?"

This was met with a shrug. They maintained eye contact, blue eyes staring hard at each other.

"Licence's at home. You can take me there if you like."

"Mr Dixon, we don't have time to do that with everyone who doesn't carry their ID." He should have been more annoyed. He was annoyed, but there was something about the guy. He looked around and realised they were about done here anyway. He sighed again. "Maybe I can make an exception this time."

The man looked at him from behind his fringe and long lashes. "I appreciate that Detective." He eyed Rick's suit as his defiant gravelly voice emphasised the syllables.

Rick made sure everything was taken care of, before ushering the man to his unmarked Ford.

It was only about a fifteen minute drive. The man, who gave his full name as Daryl Dixon, sat in easy resignation. Rick knew his jaw was set, but he was too irritated to try to relax. Neither of them bothered trying to talk.

"Park over there." He pointed once Rick turned the onto his street. Rick reversed easily into the spot and accompanied him along the path to the run down terrace. It was an old boarding house. Many of the places around here were. Daryl used his key to unlock the door and Rick followed, up two flights of stairs and down a dark corridor before Daryl stopped and unlocked his door.

The lights hesitated, then flickered on and Rick closed the door behind them. He stood with his arms folded, looking around the small room furnished with a single bed, robe and a desk with an old office chair. Daryl was unlocking the desk drawer and fishing out his wallet. He removed his license and handed it over.

"Mind if I take a photo?" Rick asked.

"Ok." Daryl pulled the chair out and Rick couldn't help but notice the careful way he sat on it, a flicker of pain ghosting his face.

Rick snapped a quick shot with his phone and then inspected the licence. Daryl Mark Dixon, thirty three years old.

"How come you went out without your wallet?" Rick asked.

Daryl glared up at him. "You did see that place we were at, right?"

"Of course I did. Which begs the question." He replied dryly, not breaking eye contact.

"Why don't you go ahead and ask. You've been dyin to all night." Daryl said evenly. Eyes also not leaving the other man's.

Rick sighed. "Why would you even go there?"

"Why do you think officer? Because I get what I want there."

"Why do you want something that hurts you?" Rick wondered in a quiet, sincere voice. He looked from the cut above Daryl's eye, to his bruised and swollen lips, where his gaze inadvertently lingered.

"What do you care officer? Unless you want to get in on the action?" Daryl leaned back, spread his legs slightly and looked daringly at Rick. "That why you're here?"

Rick flushed and shook his head quickly. "No. And I'll be going now Mr Dixon. Myself or my colleagues will be in contact if we require any further assistance from you."

"Ok. Thanks for the lift." Daryl threw out cockily as Rick exited the room.


	3. Chapter 3

"Seriously Rhee, you should come and check it out some time." T-Dog was saying.

"Check what out?" Rick wondered as he walked back to his desk after lunch.

"Church." Glenn snorted.

"What's wrong with Church?" Rick asked. Choosing to ignore the fact he hadn't been himself for over twenty years.

"Nothing wrong with it, just T was trying to convince me it's a good place to meet women."

T-Dog rolled his eyes. "I did not say it was a good place to meet women. I said we need some more volunteers for our charity drive, especially some more guys for lifting furniture, because most of the volunteers so far are women."

"Seriously T, have you seen this guy?" Rick gestured to Glenn. "He's maybe 140 pounds soaking wet, I'm not sure he's a great candidate for furniture removalist." Rick teased.

Glenn shot Rick an injured look. "T, you just want me to get involved and donate half my salary like you do... Who would buy your lunch if that happened?"

Rick saw T-Dog musing the point and was fairly sure he was about to ask _him_ for help, when the Captain bellowed through his open office door, "Grimes, get in here."

Rick raised an eyebrow at Glenn before he turned towards the office.

The Captain was sitting as his desk looking typically unhappy. "Grimes, how come you didn't interrogate Daryl Dixon at the Franco's shakedown?"

"Excuse me, Captain?"

"Dixon. He's an ex-con. How come you didn't interrogate him?" He passed over a mug-shot. It was a young Daryl Dixon. He had short hair and more pronounced cheek bones. The same defiant stare.

"Ahhh, well he wasn't included in our intel as being part of Negan's gang. He just happened to be at the club that night. We took his details like everyone else." Rick paused. "I didn't realise he had a record." He frowned looking at the photo. It was definitely an oversight.

Captain Greene flicked through the file. "He did nine years in Oz."

Rick sat down. "Really? Hard time? He didn't seem..." He trailed off, knowing the surprise was written all over his face. "What for?"

"Trafficking."

"Really? He didn't seem..."

"Didn't _seem_ what?"

Rick rubbed his chin. "Like a criminal, I guess."

"Well, the best of them don't, do they?"

Rick nodded, feeling like a child.

"Bring him in. Question him properly."

"Captain, I don't know. I really got a different vibe from this guy. He didn't seem guilty, he seemed... scared."

Hershell Greene sighed and spoke as though he _was_ talking to a child. "Most ex cons are scared of police, especially when they're busted in a place like Franco's."

"He still on parole?" Rick wondered.

"No. His two years parole finished in November. Look Grimes, I don't care what _vibe_ you got from this guy. We just need to be thorough. You're probably right, but we need to question him. If you really prefer it and if he'll cooperate, question him at his place. But if he doesn't, I want his ass in an interrogation room by the end of the day. Here." The Captain waved the file at him.

"Yessir." Rick knew better than to argue further.

Glenn didn't bother to try to hide his curiosity. "What?"

"Capt wants me to re-question one of the Franco's witnesses."

"Oh. You want backup? My brain is numb from going through these phone records."

Rick thought about it. "Nah man, it's ok. This guy is fine."

Glenn saluted. "No problem. I'm going to get lunch before I fall asleep." He jumped up. "T, you want to grab some lunch?" He gave him a light smack on the back of the head.

"Yep, sure." T-Dog stood and followed him. "Ahh, can you spot me lunch Glenn?"

Rick stifled a laugh at Glenn's expression. He dropped the file on his desk and went to the break room to make himself a coffee. Then he settled into his chair to read.

Rick made two more coffee's whilst reading Dixon's file. The man had been caught with enough heroin to drop a herd of elephants. He was lucky to have escaped with a fifteen year sentence, reduced to nine due to good behaviour and probably also prison over-crowding.

There were so many inconsistencies though. Dixon didn't have anything more than a speeding fine in the years prior to his arrest. He basically didn't exist in the eyes of the law until the drug bust. There was a whole section however, on his Father and Brother who had a string of arrests between them. They were involved in an outlaw motorbike gang, and had both served time on minor drug charges.

There was no further mention of the Father, Will Dixon, although Rick could look it up. The Brother, Merle, who was a fair bit older than Daryl, was still in Oz on an armed hold up charge. He was unlikely to see the light of day for another decade.

He picked up the mug shot again. Daryl was twenty two in the photo and when his sentence started, but he looked younger, boyish. His features were fine and delicate and almost... pretty. Rick's stomach turned as he thought about what would happen to someone like that in gaol.

Daryl had spent almost all of his twenties locked away. Rick couldn't even begin to imagine. Of course, it's not like his own twenties had been exemplary. They had started with him impregnating his eighteen year old girlfriend and by the time he was twenty one, he was a husband, a father and a new police academy graduate. The decade definitely had highs and lows, particularly the last years where Lori and he couldn't agree on anything. And Shane. He celebrated his thirtieth birthday alone, having just moved to Atlanta for the Detective role.

Still, it went without saying that none of that was even on the same scale as having been in prison. He had had countless good times. And of course, Carl.

He shook off the introspection. It was annoying working a Sunday shift, but at almost five in the afternoon there were good odds he would find Dixon at home. He unlocked his desk drawer to retrieve his badge and gun.

In the lift, he pulled out his phone and looked at the photo he had taken of the man's licence. His face had changed since the decade-old mug shot.. the cheekbones were not as pronounced and there was less symmetry to his features, but he was still undeniably striking.

Rick sighed and mentally berated his train of thought as he exited the lift and strode to the Ford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing a note along the lines of: "I have no idea how much heroin it would actually take to drop a herd of elephants and therefore what kind of sentence you could expect as a result". But then I felt lazy, so after some google searching, a simple spreadsheet and a discussion with a mathematically inclined yet now confused and concerned Husband, I feel I could be in the ballpark with my 'herd of elephants' and '15 year sentence.' Actually, I think I'm covered by the huge variances in the amount of drug it would take, elephant and herd size, and possible sentence length... Let's just say I still don't really know and I'm hoping no one else will either!!


	4. Chapter 4

Daryl whistled as he climbed the rough-hewn steps that lead out of the bush track and back to the car park. Hundreds of steps, uphill, after a 10 mile hike. It was a beautiful day. Sunny but not too hot. A slight breeze. It was perfect. His legs were tired, but he felt great. Being outdoors always had that effect.

At the top of steps, he found a bench to sit on. He took a few deep gulps of water and pulled some jerkey strips from his pack. This vantage had a great view out across the gorge and with the sun on his face Daryl felt content. He sat for over an hour, and only left then because the sun had dipped behind the mountains and it was getting chilly. He headed back to his old jeep to drive the hour home.

Traffic was bad so it took a little longer, and the light was fading when he turned onto his street, but he noticed the unmarked car immediately.

Daryl found a park across the road. He frowned and his earlier contentedness faded. He couldn't help but slam the door and stride over as the curly-haired detective from the other week stepped out of the driver's side.

Daryl managed to resist the urge to get right up in his face and demand to know why he was here. That was not a smart thing for anyone to do, and especially not an ex-con. An ex-con who not long ago looked down the barrel of this particular cop's revolver. So he stopped a respectful distance away, and waited for the detective to start talking.

"Mr Dixon. Detective Grimes, from the other night. I was wondering if I could ask you a few more questions?"

The man's eyes were hopeful and sincere and Daryl wondered what it might be like to be someone who could pull that off, in a job like his. Surely this cop had seen enough things to make him as jaded as Daryl.

"A'ight." Daryl nodded reluctantly.

There was a pause, before the detective inevitably asked if he could question him inside.

Daryl scowled, slung his hiking pack over a shoulder and led the way.

Once in the room, Daryl again took the only chair, leaving the Detective to falter for a few seconds, before settling back to lean against the door.

"Mr Dixon.."

"Daryl. Mr Dixon was my Pa."

"Daryl..." Rick started, and then went on to explain how his Captain had found out about the prior conviction.

Daryl wondered if his jaw would snap if he pushed it far enough forwards. It should be no fucking surprise the cops were back, and it was his own stupid fault. If he hadn't gone to a place like Franco's, then he wouldn't be in this mess right now.

The calm he had felt earlier today, was completely gone. He hadn't broken any laws, but these pigs would gladly find a reason to throw him back inside just to keep their streets safer. And he certainly wasn't any better than those other guys, that was for damn sure.

Daryl was so caught up in his head he only just caught some of the words Grimes was saying.

".... Captain wanted me to bring you in for questioning, but I figured with your record, you would prefer to stay away from the precinct unless it absolutely couldn't be avoided..."

Daryl blinked. Was the detective actually trying to help him? Surely not, it was probably just a ploy to try to get as much information from him as possible.

He thought back to the other week. The expression on the man's face as he trained his gun at Daryl. The unafraid, and almost, understanding, look in his eyes. He never even came close to pulling the trigger, despite how quickly he had drawn.

And that question that had been playing on and off in his mind since ' _why do you want something that hurts you?'_

Anyway, Daryl figured he didn't really have anything to lose. He could behave like an asshole and definitely end up at the precinct, or he could try to help and only probably end up at the precinct.

"Sure, ok, go ahead. I don't know anything, but ask away."

"Mr D... Daryl. There were two men at Franco's the other night when you were there. Jeffrey Negan and Simon Ogg. Do you know these men?"

Daryl looked over at the wall. This was really going to suck. This clean cut cop was going to make him feel even filthier and dumber than he already did. The problem was, despite how dreadful it could make him feel, the truth would help his case. That and, it was the truth and he was done with lying. Mostly.

"I don't know em. I don't know about any shit they're involved in. But I met Negan that night."

The interest showed all over Grime's face. "You met him that night. What did you talk about?"

"Didn't talk."

Confusion crossed his features. "But if you met, you must have spoken?"

"We didn't talk." He said firmly. And then softer, his focus back on the blank wall. "We met in the bathroom." He met the officer's eyes quickly, and looked away as the understanding washed his features.

"We were in there just before you arrived. He had already left. I was...." He sighed. "Cleaning up. Had just decided to get out of the place, which is when I opened the door and ran into you."

Grimes was silent. Now _his_ jaw was set and Daryl couldn't understand why. What did this guy care who fucked who in the toilets?

The detective pulled out a notebook and scribbled in it, but Daryl had the impression it was just a way for him to bide time and think of his next question.

"So you just met that night. Just before we arrived?"

Dary nodded.

"Had you seen him before?"

"Yeah. I've seen him there, maybe twice before. Always with Simon. I ain't never spoken to Simon, but most people who go there would have seen them, or at least heard of Negan."

"Heard of him? Why?"

"He has a reputation."

"What's that?"

Daryl was really regretting this. It might be easier to get dragged down to the station and refuse to talk until a lawyer arrived. They had nothing on him and he didn't owe anyone anything.

Yet some remaining sane part of his brain reminded him that the precinct was just a few short steps from gaol, for someone like him. And he would die before going back there.

"That he carries a concealed weapon. And he likes it rough." Daryl mumbled the last part, but the detective's mouth dropped open and he lost his composure for a split second, so he must have understood.

Grimes pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly.

Daryl stared at the bare wall again, then he remembered something.

"There used to be another guy with them. Three of them used to come in. Haven't seen the other one for a while."

"What did he look like? You got a name?"

"Skinny guy. Long stringy blonde hair. Nicer than those two, somehow. Name's something like Dean... or Darren." Daryl wracked his brain. That wasn't right. What was his name?

"Nicer, how? And had you _met_ him too, in the past?"

Daryl sneered. "Yeah. We met in the restroom too." They had, once. But the guy.. (Duncan?..No).. had tried to kiss him, and that was definitely out. He wasn't about to share that tid-bit with the detective though. The guy had been all together too nice, and he'd been a bit of an over-sharer...

"He was married. He had a wife... Sherry. He talked about her a lot." Daryl snapped his fingers. "Dwight! Dwight and Sherry."

"Oh, you talked to this one?"

Daryl grit his teeth in an effort to hold his tongue.

"Look, I could be wrong, but Dwight's the kind of guy... If he's involved with Negan and Simon, he's probably in way over his head. He could be looking for a way out."

Grimes nodded thoughtfully. "You're saying we might be able to get him to talk?"

Daryl shrugged. "I'm no expert, just an impression I got." That part was a blatant lie. Of course he was an expert. Nine years inside time gave you experience in reading people.. In prison, getting the right read on people was everything.

Almost as though Grimes had read his mind, "You don't seem like someone who spent nearly a decade in gaol."

Daryl blinked again, surprised. Really? He figured he walked around with a big neon 'Ex Con' sign on his forehead. Surely everyone could tell. Even before he went to prison he assumed the sign had read 'Redneck Scum.'

"You don't seem like a junkie, either." The detective's eyes wandered over Daryl's face and body.

"Not a junkie. Never have been."

"Not even while you were dealing?" Grimes wondered.

"I wasn't..." Daryl bit his lip. "Not even then."

Grimes narrowed his eyes but was silent. He folded his note pad shut and pocketed it.

"That's for your help, Daryl. I mean it." He moved towards him, looking him in the eyes and Daryl stood and they shook hands. He could barely believe a cop shook his hand. Could hardly believe he shook it back.

He started to leave, but then turned back.

"Where had you been, today? Just out of curiosity."

"Was over at Stone Mountain."

"Hiking?" Interest flashed in the Detective's eyes.

"Yeah."

"The Lake Trail?"

"Yeah. You done it?"

"A long time ago. I don't seem to get out of the city as much as I used to, which is a shame. I should take my son there some time."

"It's real pretty. There are a few different length trails to choose too, depending on how old he is and how far you want to walk. I linked a couple of them up to The Lake Trail to make it longer. There's nothing like getting out in the bush, you should definitely take him." His gaze was sincere.

"Well it sure sounds like a good way to spend a Sunday. Sorry to interrupt your evening, and thanks again for your time." And with that Grimes had turned around and was exiting the room.

Daryl felt at loose ends after the detective left. The questioning had lasted less than twenty minutes, but he had experienced so many emotions during that time it had been like being on a rollercoaster. Anger, fear, shame, surprise, and he had felt pleased when the he'd said he didn't seem like an ex-con. Why he would care what the detective thought, was beyond him... But it had still felt nice.

Daryl stretched his arms out and caught a whiff of body odour. He definitely needed a shower after today. He collected his towel and made his way to the shared showers. There was no one else there at the moment, which was good because for the first time in a long time, Daryl felt like jerking off.

And he didn't even have to think about some anonymous fuck pounding him in a toilet stall... Of course, he couldn't think about the gorgeous not-gay detective with the perfect suit and a son. Although Daryl had noticed there was no wedding ring.. but no, he wouldn't think about that, as he let the water run over his hair and down his face, soaped himself up and ran his fingers along his hard cock. He definitely would not think about those blue eyes and unruly curls...


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a busy few weeks and the Captain was thrilled. Ok, thrilled was pushing it, but Rick had sworn to Glenn yesterday that the man almost cracked a smile once.

They had easily located Dwight and Sherry, who were ostensibly on the run but not very good at it, and they had been able to offer them immunity and witness protection in return for information.

It turned out Dwight knew a whole lot about Negan's illegal arms dealing business, including times and places of meetings, where the guns were stored, and information on many of their contacts.

The case became huge and it crossed State lines, so they ended up having to hand it over to the Feds, something local offices in movies always seemed annoyed at, but in reality, the Captain, Rick and the other's had been happy to hand it over. They didn't have the staff numbers for that much work and it wasn't their area of expertise.

Captain Greene had then told Rick to take the weekend off for the first time in three months.

On Saturday morning when he woke up, he was at loose ends. With Lori and Carl now living so far away, he only saw Carl every second Sunday, and this wasn't his weekend. He spent the day fixing up odd stuff around the house, going to the hardware store, mowing the lawn, weeding, going back to the hardware for different sized screws, and grocery shopping.

Later he sat back on the couch with a beer and watched a game. It was the first time in ages he'd had free time, and although it was nice, he started to feel a little bored. Bored was maybe not the right word for it. Lonely, then.

Rick found his thoughts drifting to Stone Mountain, and the conversation he had had with Daryl Dixon. He had loved hiking when he was younger, but after getting married, working and having Carl, there never seemed to be time to get out of town. Also, Lori was never interested. She kept fit by going to about twenty gym classes a week, and Rick ran when he could find the time because he had to stay fit for his job.. But actually getting out into the wilderness and taking the time to enjoy it.. god, it had been forever since he'd done it.

Maybe he should do that tomorrow. He remembered Dixon's face when he talked about being outdoors. It was the closest he had come to seeing the man look happy.

It had been a fortnight since he'd questioned him. He'd felt terrible pushing him for details, and guilty for forcing the man to share so much personal information. And he knew he didn't handle it very well. He knew he didn't hide the expression on his face when Dixon basically admitted to liking it rough. He remembered the wince when the man sat down that first night, and he wondered again how someone could want to do that to themselves. How they could enjoy it.

Especially someone like Dixon, who despite doing hard time, seemed so.. sensitive. Not to mention how good looking he was. The T-Shirt he had worn hiking was too small for him, but not in a gym junkie obvious tight shirt kind of way, just in the way of something old and comfortable that has been washed too many times, and now it stretched across his chest and around his biceps. Rick had had trouble keeping his eyes off the man. He had to pull out his note pad at one stage, to give himself something else to focus on.

Rick spent the afternoon drinking beer and thinking about Dixon. He went to bed early and when he woke without an alarm at 5am, he knew he was going to do something stupid.

He dressed quickly in a t-shirt, jeans and hiking boots, prepared some food, grabbed a pack and drove over to Dixon's street, scoring a parking spot right behind the man's jeep.

He reclined his seat and waited, half dozing. Just after 6:30, the door to the boarding house opened and out came Dixon, dressed basically the same as he had been the last time Rick saw him. As he strode towards the jeep, Rick started to feel a little stupid, and very stalker-ish and he toyed with the idea of ducking down in the seat and hiding. It might work - Dixon hadn't seen Rick's civilian car. Just as he thought this, the man glanced over, a look of surprise washing across his face.

Rick took a breath, grabbed his pack and opened his door. Daryl stopped near him, an eyebrow raised as he took in the pack and the attire.

"I know this is weird...." Rick started..

"Get in." Daryl said gruffly, gesturing to the jeep, and Rick wasted no time opening the door and situating himself in the passenger seat.

"I can't exactly explain this, but I promise I'm not some weird stalker-cop."

"Huh." Daryl grunted as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.

"I could probably get in trouble for this, although I'm not exactly sure why. I questioned you, but it's not like you're a witness."

"Don't want to talk about that shit on a Sunday."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Did you bring any food? I'm planning on being out there for a long time."

"I made some sandwiches, got water and some chocolate."

"Good."

They drove in relative silence. Rick talked a little. He told Daryl about Carl, who was fifteen years old, and that he and his Mother had been divorced for five years. They still lived back in Kings County, but Rick had moved to Atlanta to take the Detective role. And to get away, although he didn't have to say that.

Daryl didn't say a lot, although with a little prodding, Rick found out that he worked as a mechanic for a small garage. That was how he came to acquire the Jeep, fixing it up when no one else could, or cared to.

They drove for about ninety minutes to a national park Daryl had read about, and parked in the dirt parking lot.

Then they followed the signs for the main ridge trail. The marker said it was a 9 mile round trip and Daryl looked questioningly at Rick. "You up for this?"

"Sure am."

They walked for hours, mostly in silence. Daryl usually in front. He would stop occasionally to point out an interesting plant, or animal. It was another cool, sunny day, perfect for hiking. They stopped at a lake after a few hours and shared Rick's sandwiches and Daryl's jerky and fruit, before continuing on.

The hike was steep in places, but Rick felt fine, and Daryl never hesitated.

They returned to the car about five hours later. Rick offered to drive home but Daryl declined. Once back at Daryl's place, Rick thanked him and headed towards his car.

"I'm going again next week." Daryl offered.

"Great..... Oh wait, I'm visiting Carl next Sunday. How about the next?"

"Yep." Dixon half smiled.

Rick smiled, got in his car and drove off. If he thought about it, it was the most fun he'd had in ages.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to put this note at the very beginning. This story is actually 15 chapters with a short Epilogue (Chapter 16)

They had been hiking together every second Sunday for about two months.

Daryl found himself looking forward to hiking with Rick so much so it was starting to be the highlight of his fortnight. He spent some of the intervening time researching the best places to go.

He knew he had developed a huge crush on the man and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it. He had tried to ignore the feeling of relief when Grimes first mentioned his divorce. Occasionally he had the feeling the detective felt something too, but his usually keen perception and judgement deserted him in this instance.  Overall he figured that was wishful thinking, and the more likely scenario was the guy just needed a friend, and he was really into hiking.

Daryl also decided  _he_ needed a friend. Particularly a friend on the right side of the law for a change. One who wasn't involved in drugs or gangs, and who didn't seem to want to fuck him over. Figuratively or literally.

For their next walk he was up early and was waiting out the front when Rick drove up. The detective flashed him one of his brilliant smiles and Daryl found himself smiling back and doing a stupid half wave.

This week they were going a little further afield and the drive would take two hours. The weather was a little dicey, but it would hopefully hold out.

It was sunny and clear when they arrived and started their walk, but about two hours in, when they had just approached a particularly high and rocky section, the wind picked up and clouds started to close in.

"We could head back now. Two hours... or keep doing the loop, that will be about three hours."

Rick looked up at the sky and thought for a bit. "Let's risk it. It's a well marked trail so it's not like we'll get lost.. we just might get a little wet."

"Ok." They had both brought water-proof jackets just in case and Daryl was confident in any weather condition.

The storm held off for another hour before Daryl felt a sprinkling of rain, which in less than a minute turned into a complete deluge.

"Ahh crap." Rick shouted over the thunder and rain. "I think I made the wrong call."

The rain was torrential before either could put on their jackets.

"We should probably pick up the pace." Rick suggested.

"Yeah, but be careful not to slip."

They continued on, up a steep hill and down the other side. Daryl was negotiating the trail like a mountain goat as per usual, with Rick behind. About half way down the steep decline, Rick lost his footing and started to slide. Daryl heard the scattering of rocks and turned around to try to help him, but got taken out by Rick and they both tumbled about ten feet down in a heap with Daryl taking most of the impact, ending up on his back with Rick laying on top.

"Shit, sorry." Rick clambered up, uninjured and held out his hand to help the man up. "Are you ok?"

"Ahhh... think I'm a little grazed and bruised. He turned around and Rick could see blood soaking through his shirt."

"You're bleeding. He instinctively reached over to lift up the shirt, but Daryl jumped away.

"No!"

"Okay, sorry." Rick held up his hands.

"Just some scratches, Grimes. Come on, let's get out of here."

Rick eyed him, but followed without saying anything. They finished their hike in silence for the last hour, and by the time they reached the car, they were both shivering.

"Give me your keys, I'm driving." Rick instructed.

He had noticed Daryl limping towards the end and wanted him to be able to rest in the car.

Daryl handed over the keys without argument and Rick started the engine and turned on the heat. "We should change into our jackets, he said, fumbling in his bag for his jacket."

"Nah, I'm ok." He shook his head, and then shivered.

"No, you're not. Your lips are blue." Rick was struggling out of his own wet shirt and into his jacket. When he completed that and had it zipped up he looked over at the drenched man.

"You need to get changed. I... look, I won't look if you'll just do it."

"Fine." Daryl grumbled.

Rick turned around and stared out the driver's side window and waited until he heard Daryl's jacket being zipped up.

He looked back over and was about to say something, but noted the closed down expression on Daryl's face.

Rick tried to make small talk for the first half of the drive home, but gave up a few unsuccessful attempts and decided to concentrate on changing gears smoothly. It had been a while since he'd driven a stick. After a while he noticed Daryl seemed to have drifted off.

He drove carefully in the rain, and once he was into the Atlanta city limits, he decided to take Daryl to his house. He was unwilling just to drop him off in this condition. After he parked in the drive way, he gently shook Daryl's arm.

"Where are we?"

"My place."

Daryl made no comment, but got out of the car and followed Rick up the few steps to the porch of the modest suburban house.

"I have two bathrooms so we can both take a shower." Rick announced. "I'll get you a change of clothes while I wash your stuff and put it in the dryer." He pointed to the main bathroom. "I'll dump some clothes at the door."

Daryl nodded and went into the bathroom, closing and locking the door.

Rick rummaged around and found some clean track pants and a T-shirt that should fit Daryl. He hesitated and then added boxers.. He dumped these outside the bathroom and then went to shower in his en suite. The hot water felt amazing and he hoped it would help Daryl feel better too. Finally warm, he turned off the water and dressed in track pants and shirt, similar to what he had given Daryl.

He padded outside. Daryl had swapped out the clean clothes with his wet stuff, so Rick scooped those up and placed them in the machine.

He went into the kitchen and looked at his meagre first aid kit... Some band aids, antiseptic cream, Tylenol... not exactly comprehensive. Oh well, Daryl would likely refuse any attention anyway..

He heard a noise and looked up. Daryl was standing in the kitchen doorway, chewing on the side of his thumb.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said we keep going.. And then I fell and hurt you. I'm a clumsy idiot. You shouldn't listen to me again."

"Again? You mean you'll still come hiking with me?" Daryl wondered.

"Yeah. I mean, as long as it's ok with you... I actually kinda had a good time today still, even though it was so cold. I just wish I didn't hurt you."

"Mmmm fine, hardly hurt at all." Daryl mumbled.

"Can I offer you some antiseptic cream and band aids?"

"Nah, I'm all good."

"Tylenol?"

"Nope."

"Why am I not surprised. Ok, well how about I order us a pizza? The least I can do after dragging you back here is feed you."

"Why did you bring me back here?"

"I'm not exactly sure. I just felt bad dumping you at home after hurting you."

Daryl expression was unreadable, but he nodded. He walked further into the kitchen, so he was standing just across from Rick, resting back on the kitchen bench. "Sorry I kinda freaked out back there. I have a lot of scars, I don't like people seein em."

"We've never. You've never..." Rick stumbled. "I've never asked you about prison. I can't imagine what you experienced there."

"Not just prison." Daryl murmured. "Life wasn't so great before then either. My old man..." He let it hang.

"He hit you." Rick supplied.

Daryl nodded. They were standing closer than they usually would. Probably just a metre apart. Rick's old shirt stretched very tight across Daryl's muscular chest and Rick had an urge to reach out.

"Daryl, I'm sorry to hear that. No one deserves that. You especially didn't deserve that."

Daryl cocked his head to the side, as though surprised to hear it. "I'm scum Rick, bad news. All Dixon's are. I was brought up by the worst kind of people, to be bad people like them. You're a cop. You're a good person. I don't even know what you're doing hanging around me."

"I think you're a better person than most, and certainly way better than you think. I think you've overcome a lot to be where you are today. I don't think most people could have achieved what you have, given the circumstance."

"Huh." Daryl looked anywhere but at Rick and chewed on his thumb again.

"I don't think I would have survived a decade in prison." Rick added thoughtfully, meeting Daryl's surprised look. "I'll order that pizza. Anything you don't eat?"

"Pineapple."

"Perfect, me either."

That ate in front of the TV and each had a beer. Neither of them particularly followed football, but they enjoyed it enough to watch and talk about the game.

Soon after the game finished it was time for Daryl to leave. Rick fetched him his clothes and he changed in the bathroom.

"Hey Daryl, what's your phone number? I just realised I've never had it."

Daryl rattled off his cell and Rick rang it so Daryl would have his number.

Daryl drove them in his jeep back to his place where Rick's car was still parked

"See you in two weeks then?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. Thanks for the pizza."

Rick drove away. He was exhausted from the hike and it had been a strange day. He wondered vaguely how it was that he _had_ become such good friends with an ex-con, but he'd meant what he said earlier. He didn't think he would have survived being locked up for that long, and if he did, he couldn't imagine being human still. Certainly, he wouldn't be half the man Daryl seemed to be today.

He thought a lot about how Daryl looked in that shirt and how he had wanted to reach out and touch him earlier when they were in the kitchen.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummm, I was tweaking this chapter and accidently posted it. Oh well, it's a short one anyway.  
> I promise something actually happens in the next chapter. Not the exact stuff and thangs you are probably waiting for. But some stuff.

It seemed to take a long time for the fortnight to pass, but finally it was the Sunday morning of their next walk and Daryl was waiting impatiently outside for Rick to arrive.

He managed to contain the huge smile that threatened to spread over his face when he saw the familiar car turn onto his street.

"Hey." Rick said, a grin as big as the one Daryl hid.

"Hey."

"Where we off too?"

Daryl explained in detail their destination and the kind of trail he had picked. Both men were glad that the weather was perfect today, not a cloud in sight and no forecast of rain.

They chatted easily these days. Daryl was really starting to open up and Rick go to see a side to him he couldn't have known existed.  For one thing, Daryl apparently read the newspaper. Often.  He definitely knew more about what was going on in the world and in American politics than Rick managed to keep abreast of himself.

He could talk for hours about cars and motorbikes, and seemed to have a keen understanding of mechanics.  How this was possible considering the length of time he had spent locked away, Rick wasn't quite sure. When Rick made a comment about it, Daryl just grunted and said he had spent a lot of time fixing cars when he was younger, and later he had had a lot of time to read.

He also had a seemingly endless wealth of knowledge about the flora and fauna they encountered during their walks. When Rick wondered how he how he knew so much about the bush, Daryl explained he had grown up in a shack at the edge of a forest. 'Real Deliverance redneck style' he said with a wry grin. He spent his youth wandering those woods. He had even gotten lost alone for a week when he was nine, finally making it out only to find no one had even noticed.

Rick tried to compare that with his own upbringing and was at a loss. His parents would have called the police after a few hours, and when found, would have fussed over him no end. His mother still expected a weekly phone call. And if Carl were to go missing... Rick shuddered.

Most surprising, however, was Daryl's sense of humour.  He talked about some of the pranks the guys at work got up to. Some of the stories were so funny Rick would laugh so hard he would have to stop walking to catch his breath.

He never really talked about prison, except in those kind of 'I had a lot of time to read' vague generalisations.  Rick didn't press it.

Rick in turn had many stories about his work of course. He even relented and told some of Shane's old stories from years ago, something he usually avoided.

They had a great hike, their longest yet at over fourteen miles in total.

"I am really going feel this tomorrow." Rick exclaimed when they finally returned to the car.

"Yeah, me too." Daryl stretched an arm up and over his head and Rick caught a glimpse of firm stomach muscles and narrow trail of light brown hair leading down, and his stomach flip-flopped.

He averted his gaze as usual and got into the car. He distracted himself with talk of where they would go for dinner. They had taken to going for a truck-stop style dinner together, on the way home after their Sunday hikes.

*************************

Around four months after their first hike, Rick rang Daryl. It was the Friday before the Sunday they were due to meet.

"Hi Daryl, it's Rick."

"Hey Rick, what's up?"

"Ahh, well, I'm ringing because I can't go with you on Sunday. I'm really sorry, I've been looking forward to it, but something came up that I can't get out of."

"Oh, well that's ok. We can do it next time. I hope everything's ok?"

"Yeah." Rick coughed to clear his throat. "It's stupid really, but Glenn has organised this double-date for me and him and these two women he met at some church charity thing. The one he lined up for me is a hair dresser so she works every Saturday and most nights too and it's been hard to find a time." Rick trailed off but there was silence so he continued. "I don't even really want to do it, but if I pull out apparently I ruin it for everyone else. The other girl is reluctant to go out with just Glenn, which I can understand." He laughed nervously for some reason.

"Sounds like you really need to do it."

"Yeah, kind of. But this is the only time. I'll be back up for it again next fortnight. Ok?"

"Yeah, sure Rick. See you in two weeks." Daryl hung up.

Rick felt terrible. He really hated to cancel on Daryl, because he had a feeling the other man looked forward to their walks as much as he did.

Rick sighed. It was just one weekend, they had plenty of time for hiking after that and Rick vowed nothing short of seeing Carl would get in the way again.

*************************

Daryl's phone hardly ever rang, so when it did again half an hour later, he answered it without looking, assuming it was Rick calling back.

"Darylina, how are you going?" Rasped the husky voice.

He briefly contemplated hanging up.

"Martinez, what's up?"

"I'm out, man. Been out for a few months, but just ran into Axel this morning and he gave me your number. Been wanting to try to catch up with you, sugar."

"That's great news Martinez." Daryl replied evenly. "But I've been laying low and staying out of trouble since I got out, and I damn sure want to keep it that way."

"Yeah. You trying to say you ain't missed me though?" He drawled into the phone.

Daryl sighed. He had missed Martinez at one stage, when he was first released. But he'd come a long way since then. He'd even stopped going to clubs after meeting Rick. Every now and then lately he felt almost, respectable. Almost.

"Sure I missed you, but it's been a long time now."

"What? You found yourself another hot Mexican chilli piece of ass?" Martinez sassed through the phone.

Daryl stifled a laugh. Martinez had always been able to make him laugh, and he had been there for him during some pretty bad times too. It's hard to say no to that kind of history. Maybe they should catch up for old time's sake.

"Of course not Martinez. Tell you what, how about we meet at Franco's tomorrow night at around 9?"

"Sounds good Dixon, looking forward to seeing you babe." Martinez hung up and Daryl couldn't help but grin. Martinez was always good value. Besides, he could probably give Daryl some information on Merle, and short of visiting him, which he wasn't going to do, Daryl didn't have any other way to find out about him.


	8. Chapter 8

It was a little after 9:30pm when Daryl arrived at Franco's in his good black jeans and a tight grey T-shirt with the sleeves roughly cut out and _Bite Me_ scrawled across the chest. He wasn't really sure why he dressed like this tonight. In the past he had usually worn his scruffiest old clothes to Franco's, perhaps on one level trying to turn people off. Tonight he was all tan skin and clean hair.  He definitely wasn't going to admit it was because he was horny.

The place was busy. Busier than usual but he immediately spotted Martinez at the bar chatting up two younger guys. He broke into a wide smile when he saw Daryl.

"Daryl, my man, come over here." Daryl was pulled into a familiar, tight, full bodied hug, and he let it happen.

"Stand back, let me look at you." Martinez pushed Daryl back gently and ran his hands up and down his muscular biceps.

"Look at you, all tanned and bulging muscles." He leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Being out certainly agrees with you."

"You too Martinez." Daryl smiled easily. "You look good too." And he did. Martinez was a great looking guy, and he was one of those straight-looking-gay-guys, right up until he opened his mouth, and then it was pure drama queen.

"Boys, this is my good friend Daryl. We go way back."

He shook hands with the two boys who were probably just out of their teens and were ogling Daryl, despite having their hands all over each other.

"Nice to meet you." Daryl murmured, and let the others make small talk for a few minutes before interrupting, "Mind if I steal my friend away? It's been a long time."

Daryl ordered drinks and then dragged Martinez over to a booth.

"How was Merle, when you last saw him?"

Martinez gave Daryl a nervous look. "I'll be honest with you Darlin, he wasn't doin too well. He was back on the junk and in debt to Blake. They messed him up pretty badly, he was shanked again, ended up in the infirmary. He was there when I left, but he'd be back in gen pop by now."

Martinez didn't sound too certain about the last bit and Daryl's stomach twisted. He hadn't spoken to Merle since he'd been out and he planned to keep it that way, but it was difficult with family and he still felt that pull. Despite everything that had happened.

Still he figured if Merle had died, he would have been notified. Probably. Daryl wasn't about to put too much faith in the great impervious machine that was the justice system.

"And you, how are you going?" Daryl wondered.

"Oh you know me, I always land on my feet."

They exchanged stories for over an hour, and after a few drinks Daryl started to relax and enjoy himself. Martinez caught his eye. "You wanna find some privacy for a bit?" He wondered.

Daryl started at the man's plump lips and perfect olive skin. "I don't know Martinez, I've been trying real hard lately. I, well, I kinda met someone." He admitted.

"I knew it! What's he like? And more importantly, where is he?"

Daryl was silent.

"Daryl, is this guy even gay?" Martinez always was annoyingly perceptive.

"I don't know." He bit his lip.

"You know no good ever came from fawning over some straight piece of ass, Daryl Dixon. I say you come with me and I can help you forget about him, at least for a few minutes."

Martinez held his gaze and placed his hand in Daryl's crotch and his traitorous cock hardened immediately. Yeah, he was definitely horny. "I knew you missed me Darlin." Martinez leaned over and caught Daryl's lips in a filthy kiss, and then held out his hand.

Daryl took the hand and stood. He was drunk now, something he'd mostly avoided since getting out. But it was all too much tonight. He missed Rick, and Rick would be out being all heterosexual with some pretty hairdresser tomorrow. They'd probably fall in love, and he'd lose all interest in hiking and Daryl. Hell, they'd probably get married, have four kids and he'd never see him again.

In the blur of his drunkenness he realised this was probably the most gay train of thought he'd ever had in his life. Martinez's drama was obviously rubbing off on him.

Martinez walked backwards, laughing and dragging Daryl to the restrooms and into a stall where he smoothly undid his jeans, sank to the floor and immediately took Daryl's cock all the way into his mouth.

Daryl exhaled as the warmth enveloped him and his cock hardened further. It felt amazing. Martinez always had been talented.

"God, you have always had the prettiest cock." Martinez drawled at one stage, running his tongue up and down the length, before sucking in and out again. His hands massaged the globes of Daryl's ass.

It felt so good and Daryl was very close when Martinez spoke again. You want to come in my ass Dixon? Or my mouth?"

"Mouth." Was all Daryl managed to grunt, seconds before he was spurting into Martinez's perfect mouth.

It was blissful. Daryl leaned his head back against the door as he came down from the high. He hadn't felt like that in a long, long time.

"Wow." Was all he managed when Martinez stood up. He pulled him close for a long open mouthed kiss, tasting himself all around Martinez's mouth.

They kissed for a few minutes, Daryl pushing his friend back against the wall, fully aware just how long it had been since he had kissed anyone. Probably since he last kissed Martinez when they were cell mates.

"You want to fuck me, Martinez?" Daryl wondered. He knew his old friend preferred to bottom, but he thought he should offer anyway.

"No thanks sugar. You know me, I'd barely know where to stick it." He giggled and Daryl pulled him in for another affectionate hug.

Some of the alcohol fog had lifted after his orgasm. "It's nice to see you Caesar..." He said gently, touching the other man's lips softly with his fingertips. He felt a lot of affection for the enigma that was Caesar Martinez. He was pretty much the only person still alive, who had been around from before. He was an old friend of Merle's and he knew Will Dixon too, but he and Daryl had always gotten along best. He knew the whole sorry story of how Daryl ended up doing time, and when he landed there himself, it had been a game changer for Daryl because they had been able to help look out for each other. It had been friendship, convenience and mutual respect for a few years there.

Martinez pulled back and looked Daryl in the eyes. "But this is it?"

Daryl nodded. "We both know I wouldn't have survived in there if you hadn't had my back." He met his eyes and took a deep breath. It's hard to say goodbye to someone who has killed for you. "But I need to get away from it. From Oz, from all of it, but mostly from anyone who knew me then, who knew my family. I can't...."

Martinez was nodding. "I understand babe." And Daryl knew he did. He ran his hand down the side of Daryl's face. "Let's not forget the number of times you saved my ass too." That was also true. They were even.

"Listen, if you are ever in trouble, call me." Daryl said. "I mean it."

Martinez smiled. "Ok sugar. Trouble and me go together like honey and tea, so I'll definitely be calling you."

They had exited the stall and were washing their hands at the sink. Martinez was wiping his mouth and fixing up his hair. "Maybe those cute frat boys are still out there. I can probably convince one or both of them to stick their dicks in me." He flashed a huge grin and Daryl shook his head.

They hugged briefly and Martinez swept out of the bathroom blowing him a kiss. It was strange how people could be so contradictory. Martinez looked like a home boy, behaved like a drama queen, and was just as likely to shank you in your sleep if he didn't like you, as he was to offer to do your laundry, if he did.

Daryl glanced at his reflection in the mirror and sighed.  He finished cleaning up and decided to head out back to have a smoke in the laneway before walking home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags.. I have actually pondered whether to re-tag this as rape. I haven't, yet. If you comment, could you please let me know if you think I should?

The narrow laneway was deserted and Daryl breathed in the relatively fresh air before lighting up and leaning against the brick wall that formed the back of the club. He hardly ever smoked these days, but he was still wired despite what he and Martinez had done. Or because of it.  It wasn't midnight yet and he had half a mind to join him back inside. Have another drink, flirt with the college kids.

He was on his second smoke and still thinking about it when two men approached. They had that familiar swagger to their walk. Bikers, probably.

"Haha. _Bite Me_." The guy's laughter was slightly out of control as he read the slogan on Daryl's top. "You come to Franco's to party?" More laughter.

Daryl narrowed his eyes and took time to appraise them. The skinny guy who asked the question was probably in his late thirties. His smile was wide and manic and his eyes darted around unnervingly. He was obviously high and probably unhinged anyway.  The other man was more than a decade older. He had strong, chiselled features and was taller and more heavily built. He reminded Daryl of the men his father had associated with. Men who always appreciated the young Dixon.

They were both dangerous, he knew immediately, and when the older guy got up close in his space, it triggered a familiar reaction in him.  The man calmly looked Daryl up and down, obviously enjoying what he saw.

"Did you hear my friend? We was wondering if you would like to come to a little party?" His voice was deep and he reached over and swept hair from Daryl's eyes.

These guys were like so many before, and Daryl's heart rate increased as his body responded to the proprietary gesture.

"Where's the party?" He made it sound disinterested.

The younger guy's crazy grin widened anyway. "Our place. Car's round the corner."

The older guy waited patiently. Confident.

Daryl took another drag, gave the briefest of nods and flicked the cigarette to the ground.

They drove for almost an hour to a run down apartment block in an even shittier part of town than where Daryl lived, sharing a joint between them.  Daryl followed the men up a dingy stair case and into a small unit.

"Sit down Daryl, make yourself comfortable. I'll grab you a beer." The older man said with an easy smile.

Daryl sat on the dirty brown couch and surveyed the filthy room that looked like a hundred other filthy rooms he had been in, in his life. He was high now, and about to get drunk again. What he'd told Martinez less than two hours earlier about trying to get straight, rang in his ears for the fantasy it was. There would always be a magnet drawing him back into this kind of life, to associate with these kinds of people. It was all he knew and deserved and he was helpless to change it.

Rick, and anything associated with Rick, seemed a million miles away.  He was better off without Daryl anyway.

They sat smoking and drinking and watching television for a while, before the older guy moved closer on the couch and placed a hand on Daryl's knee.

"I like your jeans." He drawled, rubbing further up Daryl's thigh, to his crotch and leaning over.

"No kissing."Daryl rasped, taking a swig of beer and leaning away.

"Oh. So you got some rules then?" He squeezed Daryl's hardening cock. "Hey Len, take a note. No kissing." He looked back at Daryl. "Well how about you come and show me what you do like, pretty boy." He stood and beckoned Daryl to follow him to a bedroom that was just as filthy as the living room. "I'll just bet you like being told what to do." He closed the door behind them and appraised Daryl again with his eyes. "Strip pretty boy, and get on the bed."

Daryl started removing his shoes and jeans as the guy did the same. This was why he'd agreed to come anyway, wasn't it. His dick was rock hard. "My top stays on." He said.

"No kissing. My top stays on. What else pretty boy?" He menaced, moving closer. He was naked now and Daryl could see he was solid muscle.

"Condom. Lube." Daryl answered, settling on hands and knees on the dirty sheet .

"Well sure, I should be able to satisfy that."

The guy took ages and only knocked him around a little, despite his frame and obvious strength. His cock was enormous and he had porn star stamina. He fucked hard. Daryl came twice before he did.

Finally sated, the guy pulled on his clothes and left. Daryl heard him say 'your turn' and he sighed. The older guy was the reason he had agreed to go with them, but it was implicit that they were a package deal. He knew how it would go down if he tried to leave now.

The other guy - Len - came into the room and sneered at Daryl as he started removing his pants. "I can't tell you how fuckin' sick I am of going second. But Joe claimed you, so I guess this is the best I get. Shit, you're going to be so stretched open now I probably won't feel a fuckin thing."

This was the kind of talk Daryl was used to. And when the blow across the side of his head came, he wasn't surprised. He felt fists pummelling his sides, and that familiar pain as his already over-abused ass was pounded again. Fortunately this guy had a smaller cock. If he had been in any condition to find something funny right now, Daryl would have laughed. He didn't find the large skull ring on the guys left hand particularly funny however, as it broke his skin where he punched him. He also managed not to cry out when the fucker leaned closer and bit him on the shoulder. It was time to throw this stupid top in the bin.

When the guy finally finished Daryl looked around, relieved to see him removing a condom. Just his luck he would escape HIV in gaol, only to succumb to it out here where he actually had a choice.

The guy left. Daryl stood up and pain seized his side. He could hardly breathe, but he needed to get out of here. Somehow he managed to get back into his jeans and shuffle out.

"Well shit, Len. What did you do to him? He looks half dead." Joe said, looking up from whatever he was watching on TV.

"Nah, it's nothing man. He'll be fine. A few band aids." Len cackled.

"Really? Well Len, I think you had at least better offer him a drive home, or to hospital."

"No way." He looked menacingly at Daryl. "You can get home, Right."

Daryl nodded, but Joe stepped in. "Len, you take him home, I don't need him dying out there and the cops tracing him back here. Take him home or at least dump him near an all night medical centre."

Len threw his beer bottle at the wall but stalked over and picked up a key from the side table.

"Not on your bike you fucking imbecile." Joe bellowed.

Len scowled.  He obviously wanted to argue, but the look on Joe's face forced him to snap his mouth shut. He picked up different keys and Daryl followed him painfully outside, and slowly down the stairs.

The ride was a nightmare. Every bump hurt as Len, who was now obviously drunk, drove like a maniac.

Daryl gave him directions to one street over and waited until he left before hobbling along to his street and into his place. He dragged himself upstairs and into his room where he carefully lay down on his bed and passed out.


	10. Chapter 10

Rick smiled politely as Jessie passed him the ketchup. They were at a gourmet burger joint having a late lunch after the movie. The burgers were awesome. The movie had sucked.

Jessie the hairdresser was great. She was very pretty and she seemed smart, and not silly at all like her friend, the one Glenn liked. Rick had learned that Jessie was divorced and had two sons. And that she had good taste in movies. She had hated the one they saw as much as he did.

"That script was terrible." She commented over lunch. "Sometimes I wonder how these movies even get made."

Rick nodded. "It was truly awful. Two hours of our lives we won't ever get back."

Jessie was nice and Rick was having an ok time, but if he were honest with himself, he was very distracted with thoughts of Daryl somewhere out in the bush hiking alone. It was another gorgeous day and Rick resented spending it inside. And not with Daryl.

He tried to smile again at Jessie, but it didn't work right.

Fortunately, she had to be back home for her boys that afternoon, so the women both left shortly before 3pm. Rick gave Jessie a polite kiss on the cheek and they said goodbye.

"What did you think, Rick? Jessie's pretty hot." Glenn said as he drove Rick back to his house.

"Yeah, she sure is. She's really nice too."

"Yeah, she is. So did you get her phone number?"

"What?" Rick said absently.

"Her phone number Rick. You know, it's what people do after they meet. Usually the guy, although not always." Glenn smiled widely. "And he calls the girl after a day or so and arranges another date..." He looked over expectantly.

"Oh sure, right. Well maybe I can ask you to ask her friend for her number." Rick mused.

"Is that what you want to do?" Glenn wondered.

"Yeah sure. That's what people do, right?"

"Yep. That's what people do. You know, if they ever want to get laid again."

They were outside Rick's place now. "Thanks for arranging that Glenn."

"Sure Rick." Glenn looked slightly annoyed and slightly bemused but didn't push it any further.

Rick waved at him and walked inside, where he was immediately at loose ends. He only wanted to do one thing and that was catch up with Daryl.

He pondered for a while, then grabbed his phone. Daryl was probably already home or on his way back, maybe Rick could convince him to pop over for dinner and he could tell Rick about his walk.

But Daryl's phone went straight to voice mail, as though it was turned off. Most likely the battery was flat. He left a message anyway although he wasn't really expecting to hear back straight away.

Rick paced the house for another fifteen minutes before deciding it definitely wouldn't be weird if he went over to Daryl's place.. Maybe he could come up with an excuse for being in the neighbourhood? Or maybe he could just suggest they get dinner. They had been friends for a while now, surely it was acceptable to drop by, even though he never had before.

It was after five when he found a spot right behind Daryl's car and buzzed the room number. There was no answer even after buzzing and waiting five minutes. It was possible Daryl was out, but he usually drove most places, and his car was here.

When someone next exited the building, Rick slipped inside and went up to the room where he banged on the door. It was also possible Daryl was out with some other friends, but he didn't really talk about anyone much, so Rick wasn't sure he had many other friends. He started to get worried and called out his name. Eventually, the door unlocked and Rick came face-to-face with a very bruised, sick looking Daryl.

Rick opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out as he watched Daryl shuffle back to the bed and lay down on his side, facing the wall. There was blood on the back of his shirt.

He closed the door and came to sit on the office chair near the bed. His first instinct was to switch into cop mode, even though he should have known that wouldn't work with Daryl.

"What happened?"

There was no answer.

"Can I take you to hospital, Daryl."

"No hospitals."

"Did you get beaten up?"

"What do you think?"

"Daryl, I'm going to lift up your shirt at the back, I don't want you to freak out, ok."

Silence. He leaned over carefully and lifted the shirt, and managed not to gasp at the myriad of scars newish, old, older.. And cuts and terrible bruising that were definitely new.

"You're black and blue and all cut up. You really should go to hospital" He suggested as calmly as possible.

"No."

"But Daryl, if you have internal bleeding it could be life-threatening."

"I've had internal bleeding. This isn't that." Daryl said as loudly and firmly as he could, without hurting himself too much.

Rick sighed. There was silence before Daryl finally spoke to the wall. "You should go."

"I would feel a lot better if I could take you to a hospital, but I'll respect your wishes, unless you get worse. What can I do to help?"

"Just leave me be, I'll heal."

"There is no way I'm leaving you like this." Rick inspected him closer and realised his clothes were absolutely filthy, in addition to all the blood. "Do you think you could manage a shower?"

Daryl hesitated before replying reluctantly."Yeah, maybe. I thought about it before, but couldn't."

"Ok, let me help."

Rick busied himself finding some clean clothes for Daryl, soap and a towel and then helped the man off the bed. Daryl hissed with the pain as he stood up.

"I think you have broken ribs." Rick suggested.

"They're just cracked. They heal." Daryl started walking without assistance.

Rick followed him grimly down the hall to the bathroom and went in with him.

"You going to watch?" Daryl asked.

"I'm not leaving. I don't want you to fall over and hurt yourself even worse."

Daryl sighed. "Fine, you can help me take off my shirt."

Rick winced all the way though the process of removing the filthy _Bite Me_ tank, then he ended up helping remove Daryl's jeans too. He stood helplessly as Daryl pulled his boxers down. He couldn't help noticing the blood on the back of Daryl's thighs, but despite his natural inclination to say or do _something_ , he held his tongue.

Daryl drew the curtain and Rick waited just outside for him to finish.

He came out with the towel wrapped around his waist and they ended up going back to his room like that.

"Do you need help getting dressed?"

"Nah, just give me those track pants." Daryl reached out for them. He sat down on the bed, lifted one leg at a time into his track pants and then tried to stand but failed. Rick reached out and heaved him up to standing, trying to ignore the small pants of pain that escaped the man. Daryl managed to pull up the pants, and remove the towel from his waist and then Rick lowered him back to the bed.

Rick sat on the chair and stared openly as the scars and bruises on his friend's chest and stomach. He felt sick and lost for words.

Daryl didn't try to make it any easier, just stared right back at him daring him to say something, to ask.

Finally Rick did. In a clear, low voice. "Daryl, have you been raped?"

"Yeah."

"We should take you to the hospital, they can do a rape kit and you can press charges. I'll help you." Rick stood, ready to leave immediately.

Daryl blinked. "I wasn't raped _last night_ , Rick."

"But, look at you. The bruises. The blood."

"I know what rape is. This ain't that."

Rick was at a loss. His training as a cop should have prepared him better to deal with this, but he had no words for someone he knew. For his friend. He sat back down.

Finally. "Daryl, that first night I questioned you. At Franco's... Did you look like this under your clothes?" Rick gestured to Daryl's body.

"Some. This is worse."

"Why?" His brain couldn't process what he was hearing. "You say you weren't raped. So, what, you just let someone, or someone's, fuck you and beat you and break your ribs. You wanted it? You liked it?" Rick exerted all of his considerable control, not to shout the words.

There was a long pause and Daryl finally averted his eyes. "Always been like that for me Rick. It's just who I am."

"No way, Daryl. Just because this is all you know doesn't mean it's what you deserve." Now Rick couldn't help but raise his voice, he was so furious. But with whom? With Daryl? With whoever did this? With himself?

He needed to calm down. He stood up and took a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you. Have....." He took a breath and tried again. "I didn't realise you still went to those places. I mean, I never asked. You never mentioned, and I just assumed."

"I hadn't been back until last night." Daryl saw Rick's face fall as he connected this with his inability to go hiking this weekend, so he elaborated. "An old friend called me and I went to meet him."

"Your _friend_ did this to you?" Rick did shout this time. He was on the verge of losing it.

"No. After he left I ran into some other... No. It wasn't him. Look, I appreciate you coming over Rick, and helping me out, but I'm really sore and tired, I need some more sleep."

"Sure. Go to sleep, I won't keep you up."

"You're staying?" Daryl was incredulous.

"Yes." Rick's anger was simmering, he knew he needed to calm down.

"Fine." He lay back down, facing the wall again.

After a while Daryl's breathing was even, and Rick sat and watched and tried to process everything he'd seen and heard. _This ain't that._ One thing was for certain - he hated Daryl's father with a rage he hadn't known possible until now.  He sincerely hoped the man wasn't around any longer, because he felt angry enough to kill him. What kind of monster raised their child to think that way about themselves?


	11. Chapter 11

Rick tried to doze in the ridiculous office chair, but it was too small and squeaky. The one time he did drift off, he jolted awake and almost landed on the floor. Daryl was sound asleep and jammed right up against the wall, so there was a fair stripe of the tiny bed available. He pondered the ethics of just slipping into bed with his friend. His friend who didn't even seem to know what rape is.

But Rick was tired. Tired from pretending to care on his date with Jessie earlier. Tired from the discussion with Daryl. Tired from _never_ letting himself do what he wanted.

He removed his shoes and carefully lay down on the bed with his back to his friend.  He eventually drifted off to sleep, enjoying the warmth of having him near.

"Rick."

"Rick."

"Huh." Rick came awake slowly, not knowing at first where he was.

"Rick. I need to get up, got to go to the bathroom."

"Oh sure. Sorry."

Rick rolled out of bed and helped Daryl to stand. He waited for Daryl to go the bathroom, and then he went himself. It was pitch black outside, just after 1am.

"How are you feeling?" Rick wondered when he returned. Daryl was sitting on the bed rubbing his forehead.

"Like shit."

"Would you consider coming back to my place for a few days?" Rick voiced something he'd been thinking about while he watched Daryl sleep earlier. "You can't go to work like this. I work tomorrow, well, I mean, today, but there's more space at my place, and when I'm at home, I can help you with... Well, I can help you."

Daryl looked unsure.

"Please. You won't go to hospital, and I can't just leave you like this."

Daryl chewed on the side of his thumb. "You're not goin to give up, are you?"

Rick shook his head solemnly.

"Alright."

"Good, also, that bed is way too small for two grown men."

"Don't make me laugh Grimes." Daryl growled.

Rick packed a bag based on Daryl's instructions, then helped him out to the car. He drove home as carefully as possible, but he knew it must still have been torture for his friend, even though he didn't complain. At least there was no traffic at this time of the morning.

"Right. So I can make up the guest room." Rick announced when they were inside his house. "Or...." He looked at the floor. "You can sleep in my bed."

"Sounds easier." Daryl replied neutrally.

In the bedroom, Rick stripped down to his boxers and turned off the light. Rick's bed was a king so they had a lot of room between them, and with Daryl's injury, he was unlikely to toss and turn during the night. So it must have been Rick who moved over to be pressed up against Daryl's back.

When Rick's alarm sounded at 6am it woke them both from a deep sleep.

"Good thing we got a bigger bed." Daryl said dryly, as Rick realised his hard-on had been pressing against his friends ass.

"Ahh, sorry." He scrambled over. "How are you feeling?"

"Still shitty." Daryl's bruises looked even worse in the daylight.

"I'm gonna have a shower." Rick announced.

In the shower he stubbornly refused to think about the fact that he had spent the night in bed, in _two_ beds, with his best friend. Instead he got stuck on that point. Wasn't Glenn his best friend? What did that make Daryl?

Rick was glad to be going to work so he didn't have to think about it. First he made sure Daryl was settled and knew where everything was. He needed to do a grocery shop, but there was probably enough food for the day. The loaf of bread was fresh, at least.

"I'll be back around six." He waved goodbye.

It was a busy day at work and Rick let himself get caught up in the usual parade of theft, assault, car accidents and an armed hold up. He didn't make it home until after 7pm, and he still didn't get to the store.

"Hey." Daryl greeted him from the couch, when Rick opened the door.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He dumped his keys and wallet on the side table.

"Like slightly less-shitty, shit. I took some of your Tylenol."

"Oh you're hitting the hard stuff now?" Rick teased, wandering into the living room.

"Haha. Lock anyone up today officer?" He returned cheekily.

"No, but I rescued a little kid's cat from a tree."

"Really?"

"No." Rick rolled his eyes.

"I made dinner." Daryl said. "I already ate because I was starving on account of not eating for two days. It's chicken casserole, it's in the fridge."

"I had enough ingredients for that?" Rick was surprised.

"Yeah, I found the chicken in the freezer. I had it for lunch too and I haven't died."

Rick was game. And hungry.  And he had a vague memory of dumping some chicken in the freezer, sometime within the past month or three.  He heated up a portion.

"This is great." He said with a full mouth as he ate in front of the TV.

"I could do better with more ingredients. Maybe a vegetable or two, other than an onion."

"I had an onion?" Rick wondered, purposefully dramatic.

"You have spices and some sauces too at least.  It's nice having a proper kitchen to cook in."

"Spices and condiments don't go off.  I'll pick up some actual food tomorrow." Rick said before shovelling more food into his mouth. "Let me know what you want." His mouth was still full so it was all muffled. "This really tastes great."

Daryl met his eyes shyly and gave one of his perfect smiles. It made him look years younger and Rick wondered how someone could experience the kinds of things Daryl had, for as many years as he had, and still come up with a smile like that. He wanted to see more of them.

He had managed to avoid it all day, but now he couldn't get away from the issue of tonight's sleeping arrangements.

"Tonight..." Rick started, nervously.

"I didn't feel well enough to make up the guest bed today." Daryl broke in. "And you're tired, so I'll just sleep in your bed again." He said, as though reading Rick's mind. He said it as though it were normal for grown men to sleep in bed with their friends.

Rick nodded again, kept eating and breathed a silent sigh of relief. He _wanted_ Daryl to stay in his bed, he _didn't_ want to talk about it.


	12. Chapter 12

It took over a week for Daryl to stop feeling pain _every_ time he moved. During that week he continued to stay with Rick, and they continued to sleep in Rick's bed together. No one mentioned the guest bedroom. No one mentioned anything at all on the matter.

Some mornings Rick woke up pressed up against his friend, other morning's they were on opposite sides of the bed. Rick would just get up and go off to work and purposefully not to think about it. And Daryl had learned nothing in his life, if not how to be patient.

Over an outstanding roast dinner about a week after his injury, Daryl suggested he should probably go back home.

"Oh. Why?"

"Ahh, because it's where I live."

"You know, I've thought about getting a house mate here, but I just never got around to it. Would you be interested? How much rent are you paying there? I bet I can do you a better deal." Rick propositioned.

"I don't want charity, Grimes."

"Not charity. How about I charge you the same, then? It'd be extra income for me. Also, it's closer to your work... And, you know how to cook." Rick gestured to the impressive spread of food on the table in front of them.

Daryl thought it over for about two seconds before nodding in agreement.

Daryl wasn't able to work at the moment, and even though his boss Dale was a great guy and would keep his position open, his job was casual and Dale couldn't afford to pay him sick pay. Rick decided he wouldn't take any money until his friend was back on his feet. He just wasn't sure how to convince Daryl of that yet.

The following weekend, two weeks after Daryl was injured, they moved all his stuff into Rick's place. All his stuff was four boxes, and that awful office chair.

They deposited it in the guest room. Rick walked past as Daryl was sorting through some things, and dropped some clean sheets on the bed.

"Wasn't sure if you wanted these or not." He said offhandedly, and left.

That evening, when Rick started yawning on the couch, Daryl tapped him on the leg.

"You should go to bed."

"Yeah." Rick agreed.

Rick went to use the en suite bathroom, Daryl to the main bathroom. They both arrived back to Rick's bed at the same time.

"I still didn't feel like making up that other bed." Daryl looked him in the eye, calmly, almost defiantly, from the other side of the king.

"Oh. Ok." Rick could just barely meeting the gaze.

They stripped down to their boxers and got into bed facing each other, for the first time.

Rick couldn't avoid it any longer.  "I don't know how to do this." He admitted nervously. Honest.

"Yeah, well I kinda realised that." Daryl replied. "Considering I've been sleeping in your bed for two weeks and you haven't intentionally touched me."

"In my defence, you had just been beaten up, and had - still have - broken ribs. I didn't want to hurt you."

"I'm feeling a lot better now." Daryl whispered huskily.

"Ok." Rick replied and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "I still don't know how to do this."

"I do." Daryl leaned forwards and softly brushed his lips against Rick's. And then again, and again, and then not as softly, as they came together, arms and legs entwining.

Rick was a great kisser, Daryl realised quickly. After his initial nervousness, he took the lead, sucking Daryl's lips into his mouth, slipping his tongue in and exploring. He was at the same time insistent and gentle, and his lips were as plump and soft as they had looked. Daryl could feel the passion building in Rick and it excited him like nothing before.

Rick drew back and looked into his eyes. "I can't believe how good it feels to touch you."

"Mmm nothing special, Rick." Daryl said nervously. "But I'm glad you like it."

"I do. But you're still not properly healed and I don't want to hurt you." Rick stopped and lay on his back.

"Hmmm... " Daryl leaned over and rubbed his hands up and down Rick's chest and belly. Down to the waist band of his boxers, hovering over his obvious erection. "Given you've woken up with a stiffy every day for two weeks..."

"More than two weeks. Just because you weren't here doesn't mean I wasn't thinking about you." Rick cut in.

Daryl grinned wider. "Well how about I do something for you.. And we can be sure you won't hurt me."

"Ok."

Daryl sat up and tugged Rick's boxer's down and off, and ran his hand lightly over his cock. "You're so fucking gorgeous." He murmured, before leaning down and licking a stripe from the base of Rick's cock, to the tip, before gently taking it all the way into his mouth.

"Oh God." Rick practically shouted. His hands clenched in the sheets. "Jesus, Daryl."

Rick's brain practically exploded. He had never had that before. Ever. Not with Lori. Not with the few women he had been with since.

Rick was too preoccupied with what he was feeling, so it was a while before he realised he could hear moaning, and even longer before he realised he was the one making the sounds.

"God, Daryl. I'm going to...."

Daryl made no effort to move, and Rick groaned one final time as his orgasm pulsed into Daryl's mouth.

Daryl managed to swallow everything, only pulling off when Rick was completely clean. He crawled carefully back up the bed, kissing Rick's chest as he went, paying particular attention to sucking his nipples.

Rick was still flat on his back.

"Daryl, I've never."

"Had a blowie from a guy?" He asked cockily.

"I've never felt like that before."

Daryl's smile was shy.

Rick leaned up and kissed him, finding the taste a little unusual, but not shying away from it.

"I don't know how.."

"You don't have to, Rick. I get that you're new to this."

"I want to make you feel good too."

"Maybe you could touch me?" Daryl suggested.

Rick smiled widely. "Yeah, I'd like that." God, he had definitely thought about that before. How many times had he caught himself staring at his friends form, wondering how it would feel to run his hands down under the waist band of his jeans. He sat up and removed Daryl's briefs. He ran his hand softly over Daryl's semi hard cock.

Daryl relaxed back and then jerked and yelped.

"What? Sorry, did I hurt you?" Rick removed his hand.

"No, it was me, my ribs, I moved wrong."

Rick laughed nervously and went back to touching his first penis ever, that wasn't his own. Daryl was a little larger than him. Just a little. Enough to be exciting, not enough for him to feel inferior.

Daryl didn't take long to get properly hard, and he uttered small gentle instructions to Rick. Harder, faster, softer, before he pulsed over his own stomach.

Rick was captivated by the look on Daryl's face as he came. When he could draw his gaze away, he grabbed some tissues and cleaned up Daryl's abdomen.

But after that, he was at a loss. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.

"Rick?"

"Yeah."

"You look kind of worried. Are you ok?" Daryl had turned to look at him.

"Yeah."

Daryl looked dubious. "Rick. Can I ask you a question?"

"Ok."

"How long have you known you were gay, for?"

"Ahhh... I guess I've suspected for a long time. A few years. But I've only been sure for about ten minutes."

"But you're sure now?" Daryl wondered.

"Oh yeah." Rick looked over at him. "Definite." He gingerly wrapped his arms around Daryl and kissed him. "I really can't wait until your ribs are healed."

Daryl grinned. "Me either." He kissed him back and they fell asleep wrapped around each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you guys totally called it about the guest room!  
> Things are getting better, but just remember that Rick still has stuff to deal with. And Rick is not good at dealing with....stuff.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for a crime scene and mentions of rape.

Still, the next morning, Rick had trouble meeting Daryl's eyes, and at work for the next few days he was busy enough not to have to think about the _gay_ thing. He was so busy in fact he considered sleeping at the precinct one night, but he hated the tiny bunks there and he wasn't sure what message that would send to Daryl. He didn't want to offend him. He had more than liked what they had done. Every time he thought about it, which was a _Lot_ , his dick twitched, keen for a repeat. He just didn't know how to talk to him.

He still hadn't properly come to grips with his own sexuality, let alone Daryl's proclivity for rough sex. He didn't feel comfortable talking about sex at all, so how would he start off that conversation? 'Ahhh, Daryl, I don't want to hit you while I'm fucking you?' or 'I would really prefer not to have my ribs broken tonight thanks.'

But Daryl had been tender with Rick, a small voice kept reminding him. He had been gentle and had seemed to enjoy it anyway. He had seemed to enjoy it as much as Rick had at least, so maybe Daryl didn't want it rough with him, but what did that mean? Would he look elsewhere to satisfy that particular urge?

His head hurt each time he thought about it, so he compromised by coming home late each night and going to work early each morning. They barely said more than a polite 'hello' and 'goodbye' to each other, and although Daryl was still sleeping in his bed, they hadn't kissed or intentionally touched, since.

At work on Wednesday they were called to crime scene downtown. Rick let Glenn's chatter distract him as he negotiated the heavy traffic. Glenn had his own set of problems at the moment it seemed. He'd met someone new, a brunette who sounded more promising than other women he'd told Rick about, including the one (Jessie's friend), Rick had met on their double date. The problem was that she was Hershel Green's oldest daughter. Glenn could probably kiss his job and his balls goodbye when the Captain found out.

When Glenn mournfully asked what he should do, Rick suggested he quit the force, change his name and move to Australia. He didn't expect Glenn to look so gutted at his glib suggestion, and he started to realise just how much he really liked this woman, despite not having known her for very long.

Rick parked and they got out of the car.

"Listen Glenn," He placed a hand on his friends arm. "If you really care that much for each other, then I'm sure the Captain will come around. Eventually. Maybe." Rick tried not to laugh at his friend's crestfallen expression as they started walking towards the yellow tape. But it was true. Glenn was loyal and honest and an all-round nice guy, if you could ignore the dumb jokes. The Captain would eventually accept it, especially if his daughter felt the same way Glenn obviously did.

Rick wondered if the same could be said for people accepting him with a male partner. Glenn would be fine of course, even though he would be surprised. Heck, he'd be dumb-struck, but he'd be accepting. How about the Captain? Rick wasn't sure and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.  What about Carl? How would he even go about discussing something like that with his teenage son?

"Deceased twenty-something male in an alley." Glenn was reciting as they walked towards the already established crime scene.

A big burly cop with red hair approached them. "Glad to see you pricks from fifteen could make it." He drawled.

Glenn looked ready to fly off the handle, but Rick broke into a huge smile.

"Abe." He said, leaning over to give his old friend a squeeze on the shoulder.

"Fancy seeing you here." Abraham replied.

Rick and Abraham had gone through the academy in the same class. Same class as Shane too, so Rick braced himself for the next question.

"How's Shane? And who's this dweeb?" He referred to Glenn.

"Abraham Ford, this is Officer Glenn Rhee, my partner and good friend." He emphasised the last part.

"Nice to meet you Glenn Rhee." They shook hands, Glenn still looked pissed.

"What have we got here?" Rick asked quickly, to avoid the Shane thing.

"Hispanic kid. Beaten to death in this shit hole alley. Looks like the body's been here since last night. I asked around, no one seems to know his real name, but he called himself Johnny-O.  He's known around here for his promiscuity. And this lane is a popular destination for those seeking a little man on man action. Seems like Johnny-O got the wrong kind of action last night."

Rick winced at the callous language, even though he knew that was just how Abe always spoke. He let Abe debrief Glenn, and walked over to the body of the Johnny-O.  Denise, his medical examiner friend was kneeling next to him.

"Denise, what can you tell me?" He asked.

"Rick." She acknowledged with a nod. "Hispanic male, approximately twenty five years old. Appears to have suffered head and abdominal injuries and internal bleeding. Blood on the back of his thighs may indicate rape, or other violent anal penetration."

Rick tried to focus on the sound of Denise's voice and keep his facial expression neutral.

..."Head injury, broken ribs..."

He was starting to feel light headed and a sweat broke out across his body.

"Rick are you ok?" Denise had looked up and noticed his distress.

"Yeah. Yeah, just got to grab some air." Rick turned around, plucked his phone from his pocket and pretended to be mid-conversation as he walked quickly past his colleagues, out to where he had parked the car.

At least there was no one out here. He was reeling.

_I've had internal bleeding._

That could so easily have Daryl laying there in the alley.

_They're cracked. They heal._

He needed to calm down. He closed his eyes and placed both hands on the roof of the car to support himself.

_I've been raped._

He felt like vomiting, and tried taking deep gulps of fresh air.

_This ain't that._

He gave up and threw up in the gutter. When he could, he straightened up and looked around to confirm no one had seen. How long since he had vomited at a crime scene? Years.

How long since he'd taken it so personally? Just once, when the child bore a resemblance to Carl.

How long since he had felt so out of control? Ever? He couldn't say. He spat into the gutter to try to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

Had Johnny-O liked it rough too? Was it normal for him to leave a club black and blue with blood on his thighs? How many times had he had cracked ribs before? Did he think it was all he deserved?

Daryl wanted it. _Liked it_. How was that possible?

But Rick knew. Objectively from his training, he knew it could happen with victims of abuse. He wasn't a sex crime specialist, but he knew what exposure, particularly ongoing exposure, to violence and trauma could do to people. Daryl had suffered abuse for much of his life apparently. First from his Father, then in prison. A shrink would have a field day with him. They could probably spend months or years and come up with a dozen reasons, each minutely different from the other, and still be no closer to really understanding his behaviour. It was an interesting thought though - had Daryl even seen a shrink? Rick felt like he needed one himself.

Rick wasn't sure what he was more worried about. The reckless behaviour that could so easily get him killed? Or that he could never satisfy that need in Daryl? The former was the biggest concern, surely.

Rick took a number of deep breaths and forced some composure. He had to get away.  When he made it back to the scene, Glenn and Abe looked like they had it under control, and like they had become best buddies.

Rick had a quick word with Glenn, telling him he had had a call from Carl, and he needed to take off.

He hailed a cab back to the precinct, stopped by to ask an unhappy Captain for some personal days and left.

Daryl was back at work on light duties so Rick called him from the road, using the excuse that Carl had called with a problem.

"What's wrong? Should I be worried?" Daryl wondered.

"No. It's just... Teenage stuff. It's fine." Rick replied. He hesitated. "Sorry to be so abrupt, I'm driving. I have to go. I'll try to be home tomorrow." He said before hanging up.

Daryl said 'Goodbye' and stared at the phone with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had sensed Rick needed some space these past few days, and had kept his distance as much as possible, short of sleeping in the other bedroom. He would move out before doing that.

But something told him that the Carl story was fiction, and Rick's behaviour today had more to do with what they had done the other night. It really wasn't fair Rick had to run away from his own house in order not to deal with Daryl.

Daryl prepared himself for the likelihood of finding somewhere else to live soon.  If he needed to, he would ask Dale if he could stay a few nights in the campervan that was always parked in the yard at work.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick's head has to spin just this last little bit more...

Rick drove on auto pilot to Kings County, pulling up at the old house and only then realising that he had no explanation for being here mid-week without notice. He was sitting in his car, staring straight down the street, contemplating where else to go when someone rapped on the passenger window.

It was Shane. "You ok brother?" Shane mouthed through the closed window.

Rick sighed and opened the door.

"Shane." It was strange seeing the man he had successfully avoided for five years. It was strange that he had hardly changed at all.

"Rick. Uhhh, Carl and Lori aren't here at the moment but they should be back in half an hour. Are you ok?" Rick noticed the concern in Shane's eyes. He must have looked awful.

"Oh. Sorry. I shouldn't have come around without calling. I just felt like seeing Carl."

"Rick, you know, you can come and see him more often if you want. Any time. Lori always says you should." He hesitated. "You want to come inside and wait for them?"

Rick hesitated too, then nodded.

Shane lead him into the kitchen. It was bizarre being back in his old house. Shane opened the fridge, selected two cans of coke, and handed one to Rick. Gesturing to his suit, "Rough day at work?"

"Yeah."

"Want to talk about it?" Shane offered.

Rick looked him in the eye. "Not sure." He admitted.

"That bad?"

"Yeah. Yes. And no." He paused. "Sometimes it's personal, you know?"

"Yeah I do. That why you wanted to see Carl?" Shane tried to piece it together.

"No. It wasn't a child. Just, I don't know, had to get away I guess."

Shane nodded. "I've felt like that before. Jeez, everyone on the force has. And you probably see a lot more shit now in the city than we ever did around here."

"It's almost not about the job. It's, just, how do you help people you know? Friends. If it were a case, I'd be fine, there's procedure. When it's personal, there aren't any rules, and I feel useless." The words just fell out of Rick's mouth without him realising they were going to.  He wondered how he could talk to Shane like this after all this time. After everything.

"Yeah." Shane breathed out. "That stuff is way more difficult. I mean, we should know, right?" He met Rick's eyes and Rick saw the guilt, still, after all the years.

There was a long pause before Rick sighed and said the thing he never had before. "It's not all on you, Shane. There were three people involved and all of them need to shoulder some blame. Me included."

Shane bowed his head. "Rick, man, I know I said it before, but I'm truely sorry about what happened. Sometimes I wish so bad I could take it all back."

"I know. I should have acted better too. Shit, Shane. The marriage was over years before you stepped in. I just couldn't see it, wouldn't end it."

"You shouldn't have had to. You should have had time to let it end naturally, without me causing the trouble I did."

Rick leveled a stare at him. "You love Lori?"

"Yeah man. With all my heart."

Rick nodded. "Then things are as they should be."

"I don't know brother, doesn't seem fair for me to be here in your house, your kid..." He trailed off.

"Lori always loved this house more than I did." Rick offered, looking around. It was true. She had been the one to agonise over all the decisions after they moved in. The size of the tiles in the bathroom, the just-right shade of grey for the walls, curtains versus shutters. Rick remembered going along to all of the display showrooms too.  He had been supportive yet silent, probably verging on disinterested. He just hadn't cared as much, and wasn't that the thing she always said. _You just don't care._

The Carl thing was more complicated, but it would have been so in any case. Lori would always have met _someone_ , and Rick had known through the fog of anger and jealousy, that at least with Shane, he didn't have to worry about the man who shared a house with his son. Shane had always adored Carl. He would never hurt him, and he would have protected him with his life even before he became his step dad. Rick had no doubt that Shane loved Carl every bit as much as he and Lori did.

They sat in silence for a while before Shane spoke.

"Rick, with the personal stuff, sometimes it's best to get it all out in the open, and then give them some space, and be there when and if they need it." He offered.

They were both startled when the front door opened, and then Carl was rushing in to hug his dad, Lori was standing there with a stunned expression, and Shane was saying "Rick's staying for dinner."

Rick ended up staying the night.  It was surreal. He was wearing a set of Shane's old sweats, sleeping on the bottom bunk in his son's bedroom, right next to the bedroom his ex-wife and ex-best friend now shared. They were probably in his old bed. So much for trying to clear his head!

But it was all worth it for how happy Carl was. Apparently fifteen is not too old to be excited by the impromptu sleep-over, and they stayed awake way too late telling stories and jokes. Carl shared more information with him than he had in a long time.  He told him about the troubles he was having with his math class, about a kid named Ron, who he couldn't stand, and about a new girl, Enid who he liked and had been on a few dates with.

In turn, Rick told him about his friend Daryl who he hiked with, and who had moved in to share the rent. He told him about their now-infamous walk that had been a wash-out, both of them drenched and shivering by the end.

Just as they should have been drifting off the sleep, Carl spoke up.

"Dad, how do you know... Oh no, it's ok."

"What's that Carl?" Rick asked sleepily.

"Well it's just." A pause. "I really like Enid. She's not like other girls, you know, she's really smart and she's lots of fun. She's good at art, and she's into nature and we like the same music." Carl sounded awestruck.

"She sounds great, Carl."

"Yeah, it's just, well, how do you know when it's the right time to.. You know."

Rick placed his hands silently against his forehead and groaned inwardly. He was definitely going to need therapy.

"Ahhh, well, son, you are kind of young. You're only fifteen, that's not even at the age of consent." Rick stalled.

"I'll be sixteen in two months." Carl defended. "And Enid just turned sixteen."

"Right, well, at the very least you should wait a while longer."

"C'mon Dad, I don't want the cop-lecture. I could have got that from Shane."

Kids always knew just the right things to say. Rick was flattered Carl preferred to discuss this with him... And he also kind of wished he had just dumped it on Shane instead.

Rick took a breath and really thought about the question. How do you know?

"Well... You've just described a whole bunch of things you like about this girl, and that's a good start. But it's more than that.  It's like, ahhhh, you want to be even closer to this person, to support them, to enjoy them, to be there for them, and you don't want to have that with anyone else. You love them, and you know they feel the same way too." He knew he wouldn't win any awards with that, but he felt proud to even get it into words at all. And it hadn't exactly killed him.

He was going to continue searching for something more profound to say, but Carl spoke. "Thanks Dad, that's what I thought."

Rick couldn't believe he hadn't completely messed that up.

"Do you know how to be safe, son? Do you have condoms? Will Enid take birth control?" As he said the words he thought about what Daryl had done for him the other night.  Should they have been safer? He couldn't exactly claim ignorance of Daryl's sexual history. Rick massaged his temples. Would this day _ever_ end?

"Of _course_ I have condoms." Carl hissed.

He was probably better off quitting whilst ahead. "Oh, ok. Well good.

"Night Dad."

"Night Carl."

Now Rick was wide awake and staring at the slats on the underside of the top bunk. He felt for Daryl all of the things he'd just described to Carl, and more. If he couldn't bring himself to talk to the man, he could end up losing it all before he even really had it.

The next morning Carl acted as though the conversation had never happened, but he gave his Dad a long hug goodbye, and asked if he could come and visit for a weekend, so Rick figured he didn't do any permanent damage.

"It was good to see you, Brother." Shane said on his way out to the cruiser, giving Rick's arm a squeeze.

"You can come again, you know." Lori said in that way of hers that made it impossible to tell if she genuinely meant it. Rick realised then that he had never been able to get a real read on her, nor she on him.

He nodded goodbye.

Rick drove home thinking of how it was such an unplanned relief to see Shane and talk to him almost as though they had in the old days. He felt as though a weight had been lifted. A weight he was so used to, he had forgotten he was even carrying it, until it was gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh.. I have added a chapter - actually, I split one chapter into two, but intend to post them in quick succession.. Some of you commented on there being a lot to wrap up, and you were right! Chapter 16 should be up soon... The Final chapter is now Chapter 17, and is a short Epilogue. Sorry for any confusion!
> 
> On another note - what a great day. A supportive result has been achieved in a same sex marriage survey, where I live. Elated !!

Rick arrived home early on Thursday afternoon. Daryl wouldn't be back from work for a few more hours so he decided to go for a run because it was one sure way to clear his head. He changed into his running gear and headed out on his usual route, down the end of his street to the reserve, and three times around the trail, which would be seven miles in total.

When he jogged slowly back into his driveway just shy of 3pm, he was surprised to see the jeep already there. He had planned to be showered and waiting when Daryl arrived home.

"Daryl." He called out as he let himself in the front door.

"In the kitchen."

"Hey." He said making eye contact briefly before making a beeline to the sink where he filled a glass, drained it and refilled it.

"Good run?"

"Yeah." Rick turned to face Daryl, conscious of the fact that he flushed and very sweaty. Daryl by contrast looked calm and collected in his ripped jeans and tight black T-shirt. He was reading the newspaper at the table, long legs out in front as he leaned back in the chair. He looked at once too big for the small room, and totally at ease. He looked like he belonged there.

Rick sipped his water before saying, "We need to talk." At the same time as Daryl said "We should talk."

"Actually, you should probably have a shower." Daryl quipped, before adding incongruously. "Also, if you want me to move out, just say so. I understand."

Rick's mouth opened and closed a few times. No words came out, but he slowly shook his head realising how much he really had fucked up. "No, I don't want that. Do you want that?"

"No. I just thought you might.."

"No. I definitely don't. But you're right, I do need to have a shower, I'm dripping all over the floor.... Don't go anywhere ok. I'll be real quick."

Daryl nodded.

Rick hightailed it to his bathroom and had one of his fastest ever showers, partly convinced Daryl would use the time to pack his boxes and office chair into the jeep - if he hadn't already done so. He just barely rubbed a towel over his body to dry off, before changing into sweats and a T-shirt. He took a deep breath. He could do this.

Not much more than five minutes passed before Rick was back. He was still a little flushed, but clean and dry now except for his hair.

He sat at the table and didn't waste any time. "Listen Daryl, you may have noticed I'm not very good at talking things through." Rick started with the obvious as Daryl rolled his eyes. "But I know we need to, and I want to start with what happened yesterday at work, which is the reason I had to get away."

Daryl nodded and was silent as Rick explained the crime scene, the body of the young man and his reaction to it.

"Daryl, that could have been you. I can't handle thinking about it. Even though conceptually I understand your behaviour by just knowing even a little of what you've been through. But as your friend. As someone who knows and cares about you, I also can't understand it. I can't understand why you want people to hurt you. I don't understand how you can like it. I can't abide it."

Daryl was still silent.

"Daryl, I can't give you that. I will never be able to treat you like that. I never want to, and I'm afraid of you asking me to."

"What?" Daryl was surprised.

"I couldn't purposely hurt you. I never could."

"Rick, I don't want you to hurt me."

It was Rick's turn to look surprised.

"Look, I know I have all kinds of weird shit going on, but I do understand what _normal_ behaviour is. I do understand how people.... How some people, live their lives expecting good things from other's. You, and people like you are the reason I understand that." Daryl looked stricken. "God, I'm so sorry Rick, for dragging you down into my sickness. I never wanted to taint you with that. You're a good man. It's a _huge_ part of what I like about you."

Rick stared, partly unbelieving. "Do you think I can give you what you want though? Make you happy?"

"You do already, and the other night definitely made me happy. Rick, I wasn't wishing for something else. I liked what we did, because it was you." He stared back at Rick to make sure the words were sinking in.  "I can't promise a lot, but I promise that I wouldn't ever ask you to treat me like that. And whilst we're.... IF, we're together... I won't ask it of anyone else."

Rick nodded slowly, accepting. "Daryl, what about." A pause. "Do you need to get tested?"

Daryl frowned. "Is that what this is about?"

"No, honestly it isn't, I just thought of it last night. Of all the difficult conversations I thought I might have this week, a sex talk with my son was not one of them..." He said wryly. "But it made me think about us."

Daryl looked sheepish. "I got tested last week. All negative. I wanted to say, but there was never a way to casually drop it into conversation." He hesitated. "Listen Rick, I've spent the past few days worried that I forced you into doing something you didn't want to do the other night. You have to tell me if you're not ok with what happened. If you need to go back to being friends who don't touch each other, just tell me now."

Rick stared. "Daryl, what we did... It was beyond anything I imagined. It's something I've wanted for a long time now, except I couldn't admit it. The truth is, I can't stop thinking about you and wanting more."

Daryl breathed a small sigh of relief.

Rick cleared his throat. "I, ahhhh, I haven't told anyone else this, obviously." Rick stared at the table to avoid Daryl's eyes. "A long time ago, when I first moved to the city, I went to Franco's." He looked up.

"No way."

Rick nodded. "True story. I heard a few rumours about it, and so one night I just want. Sat at the bar, had a few beers, got chatted up by a cute guy." Daryl's eyes were as wide as saucers. "I let him put his hand on my thigh and buy me a drink. He was pretty charming, actually and I, ahhh, flirted with him too. He asked if I wanted to go somewhere more private and I said yes."

"Shit, Rick."

"He headed off to the restrooms. I paid my tab and stood up to follow him and I froze. I couldn't do it. I couldn't make that leap. I couldn't properly admit that was what I was there for. I fled and never went back. Not until the night we met."

"You realised you didn't want to fuck some random guy in a filthy restroom." Daryl supplied. "See, because you're a _normal_ person."

"I was so horny, it was almost unbearable, but I was scared and couldn't take that final step. I wanted it at that moment, but I've denied who I really am for most of my life, so I just kept doing that. Until I met you." Rick looked him in the eyes. "You're one of the most incredible people I've ever met. The more I get to know you, the higher my regard for you is. It makes me furious at the way people have treated you."

"What are you saying?" Daryl wanted to know.

"I want to be with you." Rick looked almost desperate. "I'm not making many promises either. I don't think I'm ready to come out. Definitely not at work, and probably not to the other people I know. Maybe not ever. But I want to be with you in any way I can. I want to keep getting to know you. God, I miss you when I don't see you." Rick smiled. "I want to keep sleeping in the same bed as you."


	16. Chapter 16

"I want to keep sleeping in the same bed as you too." Daryl said, standing. "Except, I don't just want to sleep." Rick stood too as Daryl approached and they came together, lips crashing awkwardly at first before turning it into a passionate embrace, kissing desperately into each other's mouths.

"Would you like to not-sleep in my bed now?" Rick eventually asked, dragging Daryl towards the bedroom without waiting for an answer.

"Missed you." Daryl murmured in between kisses. "Got so used to sleeping with you, couldn't sleep properly by myself last night."

"Hmmmmm.." Rick hummed into Daryl's mouth, and, it felt, like through his whole body.

They slowly removed items of clothing, finally taking time to admire each other before falling into bed naked, embracing.

Rick groaned as their hard cocks rubbed against each other. "Want you so badly." Rick said. He rolled over to open the bedside drawer, retrieving condoms and lube he had bought the other week.

Daryl was so turned on, he could barely breathe.

Rick rolled back and handed both items to Daryl, who took the lube and applied some to his fingers, then reached around behind himself.

"No." Rick placed a firm hand on Daryl's arm and met his eyes. "I want you to use them on me."

Confusion, and then understanding washed over Daryl's face, and he broke into a smile. "You sure? Detective."

"Yes." Rick nodded.

"You ever?"

"No."

Daryl felt like he'd been handed the keys to the city. Or to a candy store. The gorgeous cop who had never done this with anyone else, wanted him.

He grabbed a pillow and manoeuvred it under Rick's hips, then positioned himself between his spread legs. He leaned down and licked a strip along the Detective's hard cock, eliciting a needy moan from the man.

He applied more lube, and bent forward to insert one finger, whilst taking the cock all the way into his mouth.

Rick was murmuring "Oh god." over and over.

When Daryl deemed it was time, he tucked a second finger inside along with the first, scissoring as he went to stretch the virgin hole.

He just managed a third finger before Rick screamed and came in Daryl's mouth. Daryl thrusting his three fingers in and out of the stretched hole.

"You good?" Daryl checked.

"Yeah. Better than good. Are you going to fuck me, already?" Rick demanded, more out of breath now than he had been from his run.

"Demanding." Daryl laughed. He withdrew his fingers and reached for the condom, which he applied expertly and lubed generously.

He pushed Rick's knees up almost to his chest, and placed his cock head against his hole.

"Tell me if I need to stop." He instructed gently.

He pushed slowly into the exquisite tightness. The pressure almost perfectly unbearable on his cock. "So tight Rick. You feel amazing." He looked at his lover. "Rick, you ok? Don't forget to breath."

"Right. " Rick replied, taking a breath.

"I can stop. Do you want me to stop?" Daryl had frozen still.

"No. God no, don't stop. Want you all the way in me." Rick gasped.

Daryl inched forwards slowly, letting out short moans as the pressure built. "Rick, I don't think I'm going to last long."

"Just fuck me." Rick rasped.

Daryl did. For not quite a minute, before he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Rick, ahhh... god." As his orgasm hit almost violently, the convulsions wracking his body uncontrollably. He felt almost as though it was an out of body experience, for a few seconds he forgot who or where he was.. The only constant being Rick.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop."

"Daryl." Rick said with a smile. "That was amazing. Never apologise for that." He reached up and swept hair out of his eyes and kissed him deeply. "God, you're so beautiful."

They kissed some more, cleaned up a little and settled back into bed.

Rick's natural inclination was to stay silent, but he had resolved to communicate better. "I can't believe how good that felt."

Daryl smiled and looked at him. "In case you didn't notice, I enjoyed it too."

They relaxed in bed for a while, before Daryl proclaimed he was staving. He pulled on some track pants and headed to the kitchen, and Rick went to the bathroom to clean up some more.

Daryl was cracking eggs into the pan when Rick entered the kitchen. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"My ass hurts." Rick replied with a wry smile.  It did hurt a little, but he liked it. He felt like he could still feel Daryl there.

"Hmmm, that can happen the first time." Daryl came over and embraced him, rubbing his hands over the firm globes of Rick's buttocks. "And my cock _is_ huge." His eyes twinkled.

Rick's arms encircled him. "We're definitely doing that again."

Rick helped Daryl make bacon and egg sandwiches and they sat down to eat. Daryl had a tendency to eat as though he had fasted for days prior, and Rick became so hypnotised watching him, topless, licking runny egg off his fingers, he didn't notice egg was dripping over his own hands. When Daryl looked up at Rick and saw his expression, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Enjoying the show, Detective?" He stood up and walked around the table to Rick, kicked his chair legs so they turned out, and sat down in his lap facing him. He took one of Rick's egg-covered hands and started sucking his fingers.

Rick was completely mesmerised as Daryl sucked each finger clean, his cock jumped back to attention and he found himself forgetting to breath again.

"I think it's time to do some more not-sleeping." Daryl announced, standing up and tugging Rick back to the bedroom. "My ass is not sore at all." He flirted.

Rick was a fast learner.  Within seconds of them being naked, his fingers were buried and Daryl was the one moaning. He did almost fumble the condom, but managed to roll it on, apply too much lube and press slowly into his lover. 

"Jesus fucking christ Daryl." The feeling was indescribable. He leaned forward to capture Daryl's lips in a long, open mouthed kiss.

"Rick, god, need you to move."

He didn't need to be told twice. Rick pumped back and forwards, slowly at first, then gaining pace as it became clear how much Daryl was enjoying it.

Rick had never felt such passion before. "Fucking amazing Daryl." He managed before his orgasm hit.

Daryl came seconds after, and then they both lay panting, legs, arms, bodies entwined.


	17. Chapter 17 - Epilogue - 1 year later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's funny, I didn't really know how to end this little story. I wrote a tiny epilogue so I felt I could dust off my hands, but then it kind of took on its own personality as I added to it over time, and it's become one of my favourite parts. I hope you like it too.
> 
> I have about a billion notes at the end of this.. obviously feel free not to read them all or any!!

Daryl woke slowly and groaned quietly as he stretched his arms carefully above his head. He was sore everywhere, but that was to be expected from sleeping on the thin camp mattress. It was early morning, and light inside the tent and he turned to look at Rick's still sleeping form. Daryl's breath could still be taken away by how handsome the man was.

He thought about last night, how they had dragged the mattress outside the hot tent to make love under the stars. Rick's body had glistened as he moved above him. Rick would never hurt him, but that didn't mean he was lacking passion. There was plenty of that. There was a time when Daryl never imagined he would 'make love' with someone, but to call it sex or fucking seemed wrong, with Rick.

They would do it outside again tonight. Daryl planned on kissing and licking every inch of Rick's smooth skin and he shivered pleasantly at the thought.

They tried to go camping whenever they could both take the weekend off work - about once a month. Carl and Enid had come with them a few times and Rick was considering asking Glenn and Maggie, but he hadn't yet.

Daryl walked over to the trees to empty his bladder, then came back to re-start the fire and boil the kettle.

When his coffee was ready, he took it to the water's edge. The sky was a clear perfect blue and he sat on the bank to watch the birds swooping above the mirror flat lake.

He thought back to his latest conversation with Carol during the week.  Rick had convinced him to see a shrink, and Carol had come highly recommended, for good reason. She had a lot of insight and empathy into Daryl's past, but most importantly, he found her friendly yet no-nonsense manner incredibly easy to open up to.  He could talk with Carol in a way he never had been able to with anyone. She was very focused on Daryl's self esteem, and on changing his long-held view that he somehow deserved less than other people did.  She had met Rick many times and liked him fine, but she was concerned about his esteem being tied to their relationship... to any relationship... and she was keen to implement strategies to address this.  Daryl personally felt he had made a lot of progress and couldn't imagine reverting to his old behaviour, even if things didn't work out between he and Rick, but he figured you can never be certain.

Not that there were any problems with their relationship. He was in love and he knew Rick was too. Typically, they hadn't talked about it yet, but it showed every day in countless small but important ways. Rick still hadn't come out to anyone other than Carl, Lori and Shane and then only because Carl figured it out (Daryl personally thought probably Enid and Carl had riddled it out together). Daryl wasn't going to call him out on it.  Rick was the best thing that had ever happened to him, so he was hardly going to complain because they didn't hold hands in public. On the scale of inconveniences he had endured in his life, it didn't even rate.

Daryl actually had a feeling it would be a war of attrition anyway. Rick still wasn't great at talking in general, but people weren't blind.  They had lived together for a year now, and they spent all of their non-working time together.  Daryl had met Maggie and Glenn on a couple of occasions and was sure Maggie was wise to them, so that meant Glenn probably knew too.  Daryl had met Lori and Shane also, and he was sure Lori had known a decade ago, or longer.

He heard rustling and turned to see Rick exiting the small tent hunched over, then stretch his arms with a pained expression on his face. "Maybe we should get a thicker mattress?" He wondered, coming over and bending to kiss Daryl good morning. Rick was only demonstrative when they were alone, but Daryl didn't mind. Besides, he never held back when it counted. Like last night.

"That mattress is fine old man." Daryl joked, choosing not to mention he had been sore too.

"You want another one?" Rick reached down to take Daryl's now-empty cup.

"Yeah."

Daryl waited, still marvelling at the sky and the lake. Rick wandered back over with full mugs and handed them both to him so he could sit down, before taking his back and sipping at it. 

Soon they would cook breakfast and walk one of the trails. Later they would fish and probably swim.

For now they sat side by side, Rick resting his free hand on Daryl's leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Firstly - It has been such a delight reading your comments, and knowing people are reading this story and thinking about it. I know a lot of the content is tricky (to put it mildly), and I want to thank you all for your feedback and for being invested in these characters. It has meant a lot to me!
> 
> * Why did Daryl do time? - I only hinted at it (although you all got it!), for two reasons. 1. I wanted to focus on the current day as much as possible - even though we had to know some of it to understand Daryl's thoughts and behaviour. 2. Merle is a total arsehole in it, and that's hard for me because I love canon Merle. I know he's no angel, but we all also know how much he cared about Daryl and I usually manage to forgive everything else, because of that. I don't think this story would work if Merle were Merle, and Daryl had someone like that in his corner when he was growing up. Basically, the prison part of the story is: Will and Merle set up Daryl when it looks like they are about to be caught. Daryl goes along with it and does the time because Will would have killed him if he didn't. Eventually, Merle ends up in prison anyway.. Also, I decided Will was murdered at some stage whilst both boys were locked up.. which is good because Daryl will never have to deal with him - and we don't have to worry about Rick biting out his jugular, which is how I would have seen that encounter going!
> 
> * Daryl's life prior to prison - In my mind, Daryl was physically, but not sexually abused by Will Dixon as a minor. He has always been gay and confident in his sexuality, even though Will hated him for that. When Daryl is older, Will is, however, happy enough for his friends to spend 'time' with Daryl... Daryl had always had a bit of an 'older man' kink, so Will wasn't necessarily pimping him out, although he would be happy to use as a bargaining tool, if it suited... It's obviously very wrong. Daryl is only 16 / 17 when it starts and well, a whole lot is wrong about the environment Daryl grew up in..
> 
> * In prison - Daryl is raped in prison, especially early on. I really just based this on stuff that happened in Oz (the show). Eventually however, partly with the help of Martinez, things do improve for him. Daryl did kill (more than once?) in prison, either in his or Martinez's defence. I doubt he will ever tell Rick any of this... he can't really. But I don't think he feels any moral crisis over it.. Let's just say that they were really, really bad people, and it would have been him or them.
> 
> * Rick's difficulty in coming out - I actually thought other elements of the story would be more contentious than this - but then I realised how invested in Daryl people felt and I'm really proud of creating that! Some of you understood Rick's challenges and thought they were fair. Some felt he would be using Daryl or at least not treating him as well as he deserves. Look, I guess I had always intended for Rick to be like this. He's a good man, but very conflicted and repressed etc. I don't really have a back story for why he's like that in particular, it just didn't seem all that far-fetched to me. But Rick is trying and he does genuinely love - and want to be with - Daryl. I had basically written him quite repressed throughout the whole story and it would have felt disingenuous to turn around between Chapter's fourteen and sixteen and have him ready to come out... I would need a lot more words than that to make it believable... However, I probably could have done it a year later in the epilogue, yet still, it wasn't really how I saw it. I guess I didn't want a 'too perfect' ending.. Nothing ever is. I think Daryl's observation is right and Rick will just continue not saying anything, but over the years (yes, I do see them staying together), people will just realise he has a male partner, and at some stage he may refer to his 'partner Daryl', but I don't think he's going to have the 'coming out' discussion with anyone, ever... Except maybe Carl if he ever asked about it. Also, I didn't add this part after reading any comments 'On the scale of inconveniences Daryl had endured in his life, it didn't even rate.' it really is just how I always thought Daryl would feel about it. Do I personally think Daryl deserves a partner who will walk down the street holding his hand? Yes, of course. But do I also think Rick is the best thing to have ever happened to him? Yes, that also. As a side note, I also consider Daryl to be the best thing (well, possibly second, after Carl) to have ever happened to Rick!
> 
> * Thank you once again to Squidlove ! If you like long fics, I obviously highly recommend Someone Like You. I am a bit funny about picking up other Fandoms (it feels like I'm cheating on TWD), so understand if you feel that way too... but some of the Oz fics and Oz/SVU are very good.


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